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LIBRARY 

OP   THE 

Theological   Seminary, 

PRINCETON,    N.J.  _______ 

Bv"A^3rTL355    1822  "^ 

Law,  William,  1686-1761.     ?. 

A  practical  treatise  upon 

Christian  perfection 


/ 


PRACTICAL  TREATISE 


UPON 


mmmii^  mmm'smi^i 


By  WILLIAM  LAW,  A.  M. 

TO    WHICH    IS    ADDED 

SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  JHE  AUTHOR. 


J^ot  as  though  I  had  already  attained,  either  ruere  aU 
ready  perfect.  phil.  iii.  32» 


fIRST   AMERICAN    EDITION. 

PORTSMOUTH  : 

Published  by  charles  MORORiDCEk 

R.  Foster,  Piintcf. 

1822. 


SOME  ACCOUNT 

Of  THE 

REV.  WILLIAM  LAW. 


THE  Rev.  William  'Law  was  born  in  the  Town 
of  King's  Cliffe,  in  the  county  of  Northampton,  iu 
the  year  1686  ;  his  education,  and  the  early  yrars 
of  his  life,  were  very  serious  ;  at  what  time  he  en- 
tered the  University,  or  when  he  took  his  degree 
of  A.  M.  cannot  be  exactly  ascertained,  but  his 
leaving  that  place  was  about  the  year  1712  ;  after 
having  made  great  proficiency  in  every  branch  of 
human  literature,  afterwards  taking  the  advice  of 
our  Saviour  to  the  rich  young  m.an,  he  totallj?-  re- 
nounced the  world,  and  follov/ed  Christ,  in  incek- 
nf ss,  humility,  and  self-denial. 

Mr.  Law  lived  a  single  life  :  in  person,  he  was  a 
well  set  man,  and  rather  of  a  dark  con^.plpxion, 
though  remarkably  cheerful  in  his  temper  ;  ?i](  h 
was  his  love  of  privacy,  and  a  state  of  recollection, 
that  it  was  very  seldom  indeed  that  he  passed  more 
than  two  hours  in  the  company  of  any  person  ; 
with  a  very  small  pntrimony,  he  was  rcmprk?bly 
charitable,  particularly  to  his  poor  neighbors  in 
and  about  King's  Chffe.  Such  also  was  the  little 
value  he  set  on  money,  that  he  gave  the  copies  of 
all  his  works  intended  for  publication  to  his  book- 
sellers ;  but  for  one  of  them  they  insisted  on  his 
acceptance  of  one  hundred  guineas. 

He  was  well  known  to  the  world  by  a  number 
of  truly  christian,  pious  writings,  exemplified  by  a 
life  spent  in  a  manner  suitable  to  a  worthy  and  true 
disciple  of  his  heavenly,  divine,  cruciticd  Master 
and  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ,  who  lived  and  spoke  iu 


IV. 


him  and  by  him.  In  his  younger  days,  he  suffi- 
ciently distinguished  himself  byiiis  parts  and  pro- 
gress in  human  literature.  And  in  iis  last  years, 
he  was  wholly  absorbed  in  his  love  to  God  and 
man]?;ind  ;  so  that  virtue  in  him  was  nothing  but 
heavenly  love  and  heavenly  flame. 

The  pious  and  catholic  Doddridge,  in  a  sermon 
to  ycnng  persons,  has  the  following  passage  con- 
cerning William  Law.  "  It  is  an  awakening  saying 
of  one  of  the  most  lively  and  pathetic,  as  well  as 
most  pious  writers  which  our  age  has  produced, 
•  that  the  condition  of  man  in  his  natural  state,  seems 
to  be  like  that  of  a  person  sick  of  a  variety  of  dis- 
eases, knowing  neither  his  distemper  nor  cure,  but 
unhappily  enclosed  in  a  place  where  he  could  hear, 
or  see,  or  taste,  or  feel  nothing,  but  what  tended  to 
inflame  his  disorder."* 

The  Rev.  John  Wesley  in  his  sermon  on  the 
wisdom  of  God's  counsels  speaks  thus  concerning 
William  Law  : — 

'•  What  little  religion  was  left  in  the  land,  receive 
ed  another  deadly  wound  at  the  restoration,  by  one 
of  the  worst  princes  that  ever  sat  on  the  English 
throne,  and  by  the  most  abandoned  Court  of  Eu- 
rope. And  infidelity  now  broke  in  amain,  and  over- 
spread the  land  as  a  flood.  Of  course,  all  kind  of 
immorality  came  with  it  and  increased  to  the  end 
of  the  century.  Some  feeble  attempts  were  made 
to  stem  the  torrent  during  the  reign  of  Qur^n  Ann. 
But  it  still  increased  till  about  the  year  1725,  when^ 
Mr.  Law  published  his  Practical  Treatise  on  Chris- 
tian Perfection  ;  and  not  loner  after,  his  Serious 
Call  to  a  Devout  and  Holy  Life.  Here  the  seed 
was  sown,  which  soon  grew  up,  and  spread  to  Ox- 
ford, London,  Bristol,  Leeds,  York,  and  within  a 
few  years,  to  the  greatest  part  of  England,  Scotland 
and  Irelnnd." 

A  writ<^r  under  the  signature  of  Christcphihs.  in 

♦  Sec  page  f  f>. 


Lloyd's  Evening  Post,  in  tiie  year  177  2,  speaking  of 
William  Law,  and  recommending  his  writings,  say>. 
"Though  I  had  no  long  acquaintance  with  him,  yet  u 
few  months  before  his  decease,  i  was  indulged  with 
an  ample  and  intimate  conversation  with  him,  upon 
the  state  of  religion  in  our  time  and  nation,  and  on 
many  other  the  most  interesting  subjects.  This  I  re- 
gard as  a  favour  of  God  bestowed  on  me,  and  which 
i  would  not  have  been  w  ithout  on  any  consideration. 
I  only  wish  to  make  the  best  use  of  it,  in  all  respects. 
Mr.  Law  lived  as  he  wrote,  and  died  as  he  lived.  I 
am  pretty  credibly  informed,  that  amidst  .the  most 
excruciating  pains  of  the  stone,  and  at  the  age  of 
seventy-five  years,  immediately  before  his  dissolu- 
tion, rising  up  in  his  bed,  he  said,  "Take  away  these 
filthy  garments  ;  T  feel  a  fire  of  love  v.ithin,  which 
has  burnt  up  every  thing  contrary  to  itself,  and 
transformed  every  thing  into  its  own  nature."  Oh ! 
might  every  minister,  and  each  of  their  flocks,  of 
every  denomination,  live  the  life,  and  die  the  death 
of  this  truly  righteous  man  ! 

In  such  a  triumph  of  holy  joy  did  this  extraordi- 
nary servant  of  God  resign  his  blessed  spirit  into 
the  hands  of  his  beloved  Lord  and  Master,  at  the 
place  of  his  nativity,  the  town  of  King's  Cliffe,  in 
the  County  of  Northampton.  And  in  the  church- 
yard of  that  parish,  he  lies  interred,  under  a  hand- 
some tomb,  erected  to  his  memory,  by  a  particular 
and  dear  friend,  who  lived  many  years  with  him, 
and  therefore  had  long  known,  and  highly  and  justly 
esteemed  his  singular  worth  :  w  hich  was  expressed 
in  the  foUowIno;  lines,  ensrraved  bv  the  diroction  of 
the  same  friend,  on  the  top-stone  of  his  tomb  : 

HERE  LYETH  THE  BODY 

OF    THE    LATE 

REV.  WILLI  AM  LAW,  A.M. 

WHO  DIED  APniL  9,   1761, 

AGED  75. 


Vi. 


Farewell,  good  man !  whose  great  and  lieatenlj  mind 
In  love  einbrAc'd  the  whole  of  human  kind, 
From  earth's  dark  scene,  to  realms  of  joy  and  light. 
Thy  soui  con:^f^nial,  took  her  happy  flight  ; 
With  kindred  spirits  mix'd,  nnd  bright  as  they, 
Thou  drin]:"st  with  them  the  streams  of  endless  day  : 
While  we  below  lament  thy  absence  most, 
Like  all  true  worth,  then  dearest,  when  'tis  lost. 
Bound  to  no  sect,  to  no  one  party  tied, 
To  sons  of  God  in  every  clime  allied  : 
Like  light's  great  orb,  to  no  one  realm  confin'd. 
Thy  heaven-taught  soul,cnpacious,  grasp'd  mankind. 
Of  pains  severe,  thou  felt'st  the  tort'ring  smart, 
While  grace  pour'd  comfort  on  thy  better  part. 
Thy  will  resign'd,  with  breath  unmurmuring  bore, 
Th}^  last  sharp  passage  ^o  the  heaA^enly  shore. 
Thy  heart's  best  image,  still,  thy  writings,  shine, 
One  spirit  breathe,  the  dove  and  lamb  divine. 
Tho'  stopt  thy  tongue,  thy  soul's  strong  breathings 

charm, 
Tho'  cold  thy  clay,  thy  ardent  thoughts  still  warm. 
Awak'd  by  thee,  we  feel  the  heavenly  fire, 
And  with  seraphic  flames  to  God  aspire  ; 
Thy  pious  zeal  transfus'd  to  other  hearts. 
New  springs  of  bliss,  and  nobler  life  imparts. 
No  time,  no  numbers,  can  exhaust  thy  mine, 
Thy  gifts  are  full  ;  posterity  is  thine. 
Through  future  ages  shall  thy  labours  go, 
Like  streams,  enriching  nations  as  they  flow  ; 
Who,  whi^e  perusinq;,  catch  the  sacred  fire. 
Fetch  the  deep  sij^h,  and  pant  with  strong  desire, 
For  glory  lost  :  heaven  lent  thy  pencil  rays,    . 
To  paint  that  glory,  and  r]iff*'!se  its  blaze. 
Tho'  for  these  days  thy  colours  are  too  bright, 
And  hurt  weak  eyes  bv  their  too  radiant  lio-ht ; 
Vet   wisdom's  sons,  though  few,  to  s:ood  awake, 
Drink  thy  sweet  sprin^r,  and  bread  celesfial  break. 
•Midst  Babel's  various  ton.o-ues,  tho'  thousands  stray, 
In  thee,  the  wanderer  finds  his  master's  way. 


THE  INTRODUCTION. 
CHAP.  f. 


PAGE. 


The  nature  and  design  of  Christianity^  that  its 
sole  end  is  to  deliver  ns  from  the  misery  and 
disorder  of  this  present  state^  and  raise  us  to 
a  hlissful  enjoyment  of  the  divine  nature  .9 

CHAP.  II. 

Christianity  requires  a  change  of  nature^  a  nezo 

life  perfectly  devoted  to  God  -  -  26 

CHAP.  III. 

Christianity    requireth   a   renunciation   of  the 

iDorld^  and  all  worldly  tempers  -  43 

CHAP.  IV. 

A  continuation  of  the  same  subject  -  -         60 

CHAP.  Y. 

A  further  continuation  of  the  same  subject  79 

CHAP.  VI. 

Christianity  calleth  all  men  to  a  state  of  self- 
denial  and  mortification         -         -         -  103 

CHAP.  VII. 

Some  farther  considerations  upon  the  reasonable- 
ness of  self-denial  -  -  -         130 


Vill. 

CHAP.  Vlil. 

PAGE. 

The  subject  of  self-denial  far tl  er  continued  156 

CHAP.  IX. 

Of  the  necessity  of  divine  grace,  and  the  several 

duties  to  zvhich  it  calleth  all  Christians  178 

CHAP.  X. 

The  necessity  of  divine  grace  obligeth  all  Chris- 
tians to  a  constant  purify  and  holiness  of  con- 
versation ;  zvherein  is  shown  the  great  dan- 
ger and  great  impiety  of  reading  vain  and 
impertinent  books         -         .         -         _  oqq 

CHAP.  XI. 

■A  further  consideratioji  of  that  purity  and  holi- 
ness of  conversation,  to  unhich  the  necessiiy  of 
divine  grace  calleth  all  Christians  ;  rvherein 
is  shoiem,  that  the  entertainment  of  the  stage 
is  a  corrupt  and  sinful  entertainment,  con- 
trary to  the  cvhole  nature  of  Christian  piety^ 
and  constantly  to  be  avoided  by  all  sincere 
Christians  .  .  -         228 

CHAP.  XII. 

Christians  are  called  to  a    constant  state  of 
prayer  and  devotion         _         _         -         -         263 

CHAP.  XIII. 

All  Christians  are  required  to  imitate  the  life 

and  example  of  Jesus  Christ  -  291 

CHAP.  XIV. 

j^n  exhortation  to  Christian  perfection  315 


PRACTICAL  TREATISE. 

UPON 

CHUlSTiaK  PEFv¥ECT10K 

INTRODUCTION. 

CHRISTIAN  Perfection  will,  perhaps,  seem  to 
the  common  reader  to  imply  some  state  of  life 
which  every  one  need  not  aspire  after  ;  that  it  is 
made  up  of  such  strictness,  retirements,  and  par- 
ticularities of  devotion,  as  are  neither  necessary, 
nor  practicable  by  the  generality  of  Christians. 

But  I  must  answer  for  myself,  that  I  know  of 
only  one  common  Christianity,  which  is  to  be  the 
common  means  of  salvation  to  all  men. 

If  the  writers  upon  Christian  Perfection  have 
fancied  to  themselves  some  peculiar  degrees  of 
piety,  or  extraordinary  devotions  which  they  call 
by  that  name,  they  have  not  done  religion  much 
service,  by  making  Christian  Perfection  to  consist 
in  any  thing,  but  the  right  performance  of  our 
necer-sary  duties. 

This  is  the  perfection  which  this  Treatise  endea- 
vours to  recommend  ;  a  perfection  that  does  not 
consist  in  any  singular  state  or  condition  of  life,  or 
in  any  particular  set  of  duties,  but  in  the  holy  and 
religious  conduct  of  ourselves  in  every  slate  of  life. 

It  calls  no  one  to  a  cloysttr^  but  to  a  right  and 
full  performance  of  those  duties,  which  are  neces- 
sary for  all  Christians,  and  common  to  all  states  of 
life. 

1  call  it  perfection^  for  two  reasons  ;  first,  bccauge 


10  A  PRACTICAL  TREATISE 

I  hope  it  contains  a  full  representation  of  thafc 
height  of  holiness  and  purity,  to  which  Christianity 
calls  all  its  members  :  secondly,  that  the  fitle  may 
invite  the  reader  to  peruse  it  with  the  more  dili* 
gence,  as  expecting  to  find  not  only  a  discourse 
upon  moral  virtues,  but  a  regular  draught  of  those 
holy  tempers  which  are  the  perfect  measure  and 
standard  of  Christian  piety. 

Now  as  perfection  is  here  placed  in  the  right 
performance  of  our  necessary  duties,  in  the  exer- 
cise of  such  holy  tempers  as  are  equally  necessary 
and  equally  practicable  in  all  states  of  life,  as  this 
is  the  highest  degree  of  Christian  Perfection,  so  it 
is  to  be  observed,  that  it  is  also  the  lowest  degree 
©f  hoh'ncss  which  the  Gospel  alloweth.  So  that 
though  no  order  of  men  can  pretend  to  go  higher, 
yet  none  of  us  can  have  any  security  in  resting  in 
any  state  of  piety  that  is  lower. 

And  I  hope  this  Avill  be  taken  as  a  sign  that  I 
have  hit  upon  the  true  state  of  Christian  Perfection, 
if  I  shew  it  to  be  such,  as  men  in  cloystcrs  and  reli- 
gious retirements  cannot  add  more,  and  at  the  same 
time  such,  as  Christians  in  all  states  of  the  world 
must  not  be  content  with  less. 

For  consider,  what  can  Christian  Perfection  be, 
but  such  a  right  performance  of  all  the  duties  of 
life,  as  is  according  to  the  laws  of  Christ  ?  What 
can  it  be,  but  a  living  in  such  holy  tempers,  and 
acting  with  such  dispositions  as  Christianity  re- 
quires ?  Now,  if  this  be  a  perfection,  who  can  ex- 
ceed it  ?  And  yet  what  state,  or  circumstances  of 
life,  can  allow  any  people  to  fall  short  of  it  ? 

Let  us  take  an  instance  in  some  one  particular 
temper  of  Christianity. — Let  it  be  the  love  of  God. 
Christians  are  to  love  God  with  all  their  heart  and 
all  their  strength.  Now  can  any  order  of  Christians 
exceed  in  this  temper  ?  Or  is  there  any  order  of 
(Christians  who  may  be  allowed  to  be  defective  m 


tPON    CHRISTIAN    PERfECTION.  11 

Now  what  is  thus  true  of  the  love  of  GoJ,  is 
0  quail  J  true  of  all  other  religious  duties;  and  con- 
sequently all  .those  holy  tempers  of  heart  which  con- 
stitute the  perfection  of  Christian  piety,  are  tem- 
pers equally  necessary  for  all  Christians. 

As  there  is  but  one  faith  and  one  baptism,  so 
there  is  but  one  piety  and  one  perfection,  that  is 
common  to  all  orders  of  Christians. 

It  will,  perhaps,  be  here  objected,  that  this  sup- 
poses that  all  people  may  be  equally  good,  which 
seems  as  impossible  in  the  nature  of  things,  as  to 
suppose  that  all  people  may  be  equally  v/ise. 

To  this  it  may  be  answered,  that  this  is  neither 
•altogether  true,  nor  altogether  false. 

For  to  instance  in  charitj^,  it  is  true  that  all  peo* 
pie  may  be  equally  charitable :  if  we  understand  by 
charity  that  habit  of  the  mind  which  stands  rightly 
disposed  to  all  acts  of  charity ;  in  this  sense  all  peo- 
ple may  be  equally  charitable.  But  if  we  take 
charity  for  alms-giving,  or  a  liberal  assistance  of  the 
poor,  in  this  sense  it  is  false,  that  all  people  may  be 
equally  charitable. 

Now  as  it  is  the  habit  of  the  mind,  that  consti- 
tutes the  excellency  of  charity,  so  this  is  the  cha- 
rity to  which  Christians  are  called^  and  in  which 
they  may  be  all  equally  perfect. 

Again,  are  not  all  people  obliged  to  be  equally 
honest,  just,  and  true  and  faithful  ?  In  these  vir- 
tues all  are  to  be  eminent  and  exact  in  the  some 
degree  ;  there  are  no  abatements  to  be  made  for 
any  rank  or  order  of  people. 

Now  as  to  the  external  exercise  of  these  duties, 
there  may  be  a  great  diiTerence.  One  man  may  have 
great  business  in  the  world,  and  be  honest  and 
faithful  in  it  all  ;  another  may  have  small  dealings, 
and  be  honest  in  them  ;  but  provided  that  th^re  be 
in  both  of  them  the  same  justice  and  integrity  of 
niind,  they  are  equally  honest,  though  their  instan- 


12  A    TRACTICAL    TREATISE     ' 

ces  of  honesty,  as  to  external  acts  of  it,  are  as  dit 
ferent  as  great  things  are  different  from  small. 

But  as  it  is  the  habit  of  the  mind,  which  is  the 
justice  which  religion  requires,  so  in  this  respect 
^11  people  may  be  equally  just. 

Now  this  may  serve  to  show  us  in  what  respect 
all  people  may  be  equally  virtuous,  and  in  what 
respect  they  cannot. 

As  to  the  external  instances  or  acts  of  virtue,  in 
these  they  must  differ  according  to  the  difference  of 
their  circumstances,  and  condition  in  the  w^orld  ; 
but  as  virtues  are  considered  as  habits  of  the  mind, 
and  principles  of  the  heart,  in  this  respect  they  may 
all  be  equally  virtuous,  and  are  all  called  to  the 
same  perfection. 

A  man  cannot  exercise  the  spirit  of  martyrdom 
till  he  is  brought  to  the  stake  ;  he  cannot  forgive 
his  enemies  till  they  have  done  him  wrong,  till  he 
suffers  from  them.  He  cannot  bear  poverty  and 
distress  till  they  are  brought  upon  him.  All  these 
acts  of  virtue  depend  upon  outward  causes.  But 
yet  he  may  have  a  piety  and  heroic  spirit  equal  to 
those  who  have  died  for  their  religion.  He  may 
have  that  charity  of  mind  which  prays  for  its  ene- 
mies ;  he  may  have  that  meekness  and  resignation 
to  the  will  of  God,  which  disposes  people  to  bear  po- 
verty and  distress  with  patience  and  humble  sub- 
mission to  the  divine  providence. 

So  that  they  are  only  the  external  instances  and 
acts  of  virtue,  which  depend  upon  outward  causes 
and  circumstances  of  life  ;  a  man  cannot  give  till 
he  has  something  to  give  ;  but  the  inward  piety  of 
the  heart  and  mind,  which  constitutes  the  state  of 
Christian  Perfection,  depends  upon  no  outward  cir^ 
cumstances.  A  man  need  not  want  charity  because 
he  has  no  rich?Si  nor  be  destitute  of  a  forgiving 
spirit,  because  ho  has  no  persecutors  to  forgive. 

Although,  therefore,  we  neither  are,  nor  can  be 


UPON   CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  l^ 

all  in  the  same  circumstances  of  life,  yd  we  are  to 
be  all  in  the  same  spirit  of  religion  ;  though  we 
cannot  be  all  equal  in  alms-giving,  yet  we  ai-e  to  be 
all  alike  in  charity  ;  though  we  are  not  all  in  the 
same  state  of  persecution,  yet  we  must  be  all  in  the 
same  spirit  that  forgives  and  p-ays  for  its  persecu- 
tors ;  though  we  are  not  all  in  poverty  and  distress, 
yet  we  must  all  bt3  full  of  that  piety  of  heart  which 
ju'oduces  meekness,  patience,  and  thankfulness  in 
distress  and  poverty. 

From  these  considerations  it  is  easy  to  appre- 
hend how  persons  may  difter  in  instances  of  good- 
ness, and  yet  be  equally  good ;  for  as  the  perfection 
of  piety  is  the  perfection  of  the  heart,  so  the  heart 
■may  have  the  same  perfection  in  all  states  and  con- 
ditions of  life.  And  this  is  that  perfection  which  is 
common  to  all  states,  and  to  which  all  orders  of 
Christians  are  equally  called. 

Again,  there  may  be  another  difference  of  virtue 
founded  in  the  different  abilities  of  persons ;  one  may 
have  a  more  enlightened  mind  than  another,  and  so 
may  see  farther  into  his  duty,  and  be  able  to  prac- 
tise it  with  greater  exactness,  but  then  as  his  good- 
ness seems  to  consist  in  this,  that  he  is  true  and 
faithful  to  what  he  knows  to  be  his  duty,  so  if  another 
is  as  true  and  faithful  to  that  measure  of  light  and 
knowledge  which  God  has  given  him,  he  seems  to 
be  as  good  a  man,  as  he  that  is  true  and  faithful  to 
a  greater  light. 

We  can  hardly  reconcile  it  with  the  divine  good- 
ness to  give  one  man  two  talents,  and  another  five, 
unless  we  suppose  that  he  is  as  high  in  his  master\s 
pleasure  who  makes  the  right  use  of  two,  as  he  that 
makes  the  right  use  of  five  talents. 

So  that  it  still  holds  g6od,  that  it  is  the  perfec- 
tion of  the  heart  that  makes  the  perfection  of  every 
state  of  life. 

It  may,  perhaps,  be  farther  objected,  that  the 


14  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

(liffercrkt  degrees  of  glory  in  another  life,  supposes 
that  good  men,  and  such  as  are  accepted  of  God,  do 
yet  dirlcr  in  their  degrees  of  goodness  in  this  life. 

I  grant  that  it  does. 

But  then  this  is  no  proof  that  all  men  are  not 
railed  to  the  same  goodness,  and  the  same  perfec- 
tion. 

Perhaps  it  cannot  be  said  of  the  best  of  men  that 
ever  lived,  that  they  performed  their  duty  in  such 
perfection  in  all  instances,  as  they  might  have  done. 

Now  as  it  suits  with  the  divine  mercy  to  admit 
men  to  happiness,  who  have  not  been,  in  every  re- 
spect, so  perfect  as  they  might  have  been,  notwith- 
J^tanding  that  he  gave  them  such  a  rule  of  perfec- 
tion ;  so  it  equally  suits  with  the  divine  mercy  to 
admit  men  to  different  degrees  of  happiness,  on  ac- 
count of  their  different  conduct,  though  he  gave 
them  all  one  common  rule  of  perfection. 

Did  not  God  pardon  frailties  and  infirmities,  the. 
best  of  men  could  not  be  rewarded.  But  consider 
now,  does  God's  pardoning  of  frailties  and  infirmi- 
ties, in  the  best  of  men,  prove  that  the  best  of  men 
were  not  called  to  any  other  perfection,  than  that 
10  which  they  arrived  ?  Does  this  prove  that  God 
did  not  call  them  to  be  strictly  good,  because  he 
receives  them  to  mercy  with  some  defects  in  good- 
ness ?  No,  most  surelj^ 

Yet  this  is  as  good  an  argument,  as  to  say,  that 
all  men  are  not  called  to  the  same  state  of  goodness 
or  perfection,  because  they  are  admitted  to  differ- 
f;nt  rewards  in  the  other  life. 

For  it  is  as  right  reasoning,  to  say,  God  rewards 
frail  and  imperfect  men,  therefore  they  were  called 
to  no  higher  perfection  ;  as  to  say,  that  because 
God  rewards  different  degrees  of  goodness,  therefore 
men  are  not  called  to  one  and  the  same  goodness. 

For  as  God  could  reward  none,  unless  he  would 
reward  such  as  had  failings,  so  their  difference  in 
fheir  failings  may  make  them  objects  of  his  diffc* 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PEIIFECTION.  l5 

rent  mercy  and  rewards,  though    the    rule  from 
which  they  failed,  was  common  to  tliem  all. 

It  therefore  plainly  appears,  that  the  diifercnt 
degrees  of  glory  in  another  life,  arc  no  more  a  proof 
that  God  calls  some  persons  to  different  and  lower 
states  of  goodness  than  others,  than  his  pardonin^^ 
variety  of  sinners  is  a  proof  that  he  allowed  of  those 
kinds  of  sin,  and  did  not  require  men  to  avoid  them. 
For  it  is  full  as  good  an  argument  to  say,  God  par- 
dons some  sinners,  therefore  he  did  not  require 
them  to  avoid  such  sins,  as  to  say,  God  rewards  dif- 
ferent degrees  of  goodness,  therefore  he  did  not  call 
people  to  higher  degrees  of  goodness. 

So  that  the  different  degrees  of  glory  in  the  world 
to  come  are  no  objection  against  this  doctrine,  that 
all  Christians  are  called  to  one  and  the  same  piety 
and  perfection  of  heart. 

Lastly,  it  may  be  further  objected,  that  although 
the  law  of  God  calls  all  men  to  the  same  state  of 
perfection,  yet  if  there  are  different  degrees  of  glory 
given  to  different  degrees  of  goodness,  this  shows 
that  men  may  be  saved,  and  happy,  without  aspir- 
ing after  that  perfection  to  which  they  were  called. 

It  may  be  answered,  that  this  is  a  false  conclu- 
sion :  For  though  it  may  be  true,  that  people  will 
be  admitted  to  happiness,  and  different  degrees  of 
happiness,  though  they  have  not  attained  to  all  that 
perfection  to  which  they  were  called  ;  yet  it  does 
not  follow  that  any  people  will  be  saved  who  did 
not  endeavour  after  that  perfection.  For  surely  it  is 
a  very  different  case,  io  fall  short  of  our  perfection, 
after  our  best  endeavours,  and  to  stop  short  of  if.  by 
not  endeavouring  to  arrive  at  it.  The  one  practise 
may  carry  men  to  a  high  reward  in  heaven,  and  the 
other  casts  them  with  the  unprofitable  servant  into 
outer  darkness. 

There  is,  therefore,  no  foundation  for  people  to 
content  them.selves  in  any  lower  degrees  of  good- 


16  A     i'RACTlCAL     TKFaTISE 

iiess,  as  being  suflicicnt  to  carry  them  to  heavcii-. 
J  hough  not  to  the  highest  happiness  in  heaven. 

For  consider,  thou  hearest  there  are  different  de- 
grees of  glory ;  that  they  are  proportioned  to  differ- 
ent states  of  goodness  in  this  life,  thou  wilt  there^ 
fore  content  thyself  with  a  lower  degree  of  good- 
ness, being  content  to  be  of  the  lowest  oixler  in 
heaven.  Thou  wilt  have  only  so  much  piety  as 
will  save  thee. 

But  consider  how  vainly  thou  reasonest  ;  for 
•ijiough  Cod  i^iveth  different  rewards,  it  is  not  in 
the  power  of  man  to  take  them  of  himself.  It  is 
tiot  for  any  one  to  say,  I  will  practise  so  much 
goodness,  and  so  take  such  a  reward.  God  seeth 
different  abilities  and  frailties  in  men,  which  may 
move  his  goodness  to  be  merciful  to  their  different 
improvements  in  virtue  :  I  grant  that  there 
may  be  a  lower  state  of  piety  wliich,  in  some  per- 
sons, may  be  accepted  by  God. 

But  consider,  that  though  there  is  such  a  state  of 
piety  that  may  be  acccptech  yet  that  it  cannot  be 
chosen,  it  ceases  to  be  that  state  as  soon  as  thou 
choosest  it. 

God  may  be  merciful  to  a  low  estate  of  piety,  by 
reason  of  some  pitiable  circumstances  that  may  at- 
tend it ;  but  as  soon  as  thou  clioosest  such  a  state 
of  piety,  it  loses  those  pitiable  circumstances,  and 
instead  of  a  low  state  of  piety,  is  changed  into  a 
higli  state  of  impiety. 

So  that  though  there  are  meaner  improvements 
in  virtue,  which  may  mj.ike  some  persons  accepted 
by  God,  yet  this  is  no  ground  for  content  or  satis- 
faction in  such  a  state  ;  because  it  ceases  to  be  such 
a  state,  and  is  quite  another  thing,  for  being  chosen 
and  satisfied  with. 

It  appears  therefore,  from  these  considerations, 
that  notwithstanding  God  may  accept  of  different 
degrees  of  goodness,  and  reward  them  v-ith  diffe- 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTfON.  17 

rent  degrees  of  glory  in  another  life,  yet  that  all 
Christians  are  called  to  one  and  the  same  perfec- 
tion, and  equally  obliged  to  labour  after  it. 

Thus  much  may  suffice  to  give  the  reader  a  ge- 
neral notion  of  perfection,  and  the  necessity  of  en- 
deavouring after  it. 

What  it  is,  and  ^vhat  holy  tempers  it  requires, 
will,  1  hope,  be  found  sufficiently  explained  in  the 
following  chapters. 


CHAP.  I. 

The  Nature  and  Design  of  Qiristianily^  that  its  sol^ 
end  is  to  deliver  us  from  the  Misery  and  Disorder         i 
of  this  present  stale^  and  raise  us   to  a  hlisful  en- 
joyment  of  the  Divine  Nature, 

THE  wisdom  of  mankind  has,  for  several  ages  of 
the  world,  been  enquiring  into  the  nature  of  man, 
and  the  nature  of  the  world  in  which  he  is  placed. 

The  wants  and  miseries  of  human  natwre,  and  the 
vanity  of  worldly  enjoyments,  have  made  it  difficult 
for  the  wisest  men  to  tell  what  human  happiness 
ivas,  or  wherein  it  consisted. 

It  has  pleased  the  infinite  goodness  of  God,  to 
satisfy  all  our  wants  and  entjuiries  by  a  revelation 
made  to  the  world  by  his  Son  Jesus  Christ. 

I'his  revelation  has  laid  open  the  great  secrets 
of  providence  from  the  creation  of  the  world,  ex- 
plained the  present  state  of  thinfi:^,  aud  given  mnn 
all  the  information  that  is  necessary  to  quiet  his 
anxieties,  content  him  with  his  condition,  and  lead 
him  safely  to  everlasting  rest  and  h.Tpir.^^s. 
^   It  is  now  only  necessary,  that  the  poor  wisdgia 

2* 


t^  A    PRACTICAL   TREATlgE 

of  man  do  not  exalt  itself  against  God,  that  we  suf-' 
for  our  eyes  to  be  opened  by  him  that  made  them, 
and  our  lives  to  be  conducted  by  him,  in  whom  wt- 
live^  move^  and  have  our  being. 

For  light  is  now  come  into  the  world,  if  men  are 
but  willing  to  come  out  of  darkness. 

As  happiness  is  the  sole  end  of  all  our  labours, 
so  this  divine  revelation  aims  at  nothing  else. 

It  gives  us  right  and  satisfactory  notions  of  our- 

^     f^elves,  of  our  true  good  and  real  evil  ;  it  shows  us- 

the  true  state  of  our  condition,  both  our  vanity  and 

excellence,  our  greatness  and  meanness,  our  felicity 

snd  misery. 

Before  this,  man  was  a  mere  riddle  to  himself, 
and  his  condition 'full  of  darkness  and  perplexity. 
A  restless  inhabitant  of  a  miserable  disordered 
ivorld,  UH(lking  in  a  vain  shadozu^  and  disquieting  him'- 
^c//'  in  tain. 

But  this  light  has  dispersed  all  the  anxiety  of  his 
vain  conjectures  ;  it  has  brought  us  acquainted  with 
God,  and  by  adding  heaven  to  earth,  and  eternity 
to  time,  has  opened  such  a  glorious  view  of  things, 
I'i^  makes  man,  even  in  his  present  condition,  full  of 
a  peace  of  God  which  passes  all  understanding. 

This  revelation  acquaints  us,  that  we  have  a 
\Y-  spirit  Avithin  us,  that  was  created  after  the  divine 
image,  that  this  spirit  is  now  in  a  fallen  corrupt 
c'bndition,  that  the  body  in  which  it  is  placed  is  its 
<^rave,  or  sepulchre,  where  it  is  enslaved  to  fleshly 
thoughts,  blinded  with  false  notions  of  good  and 
<Hdl,  and  dead  to  all  taste  and  relish  of  its  true  hap- 
piness. 

It  teaches  us,  that  the  world  in  which  we  live  is 
also  in  a  disordered  irregular  state,  and  cursed  for 
ihe  sake  of  man  ;  that  it  is  no  longer  the  paradise 
that  God  made  it,  but  the  remains  of  a  drowned 
\vorld,  full  of  marks  of  God's  displeasure,  and  the 
-sin  of  its  inhabitants. 

That  it  is  a  mere  wilderness,  a  stale  of  darkness, 


UPON    CHRISTIAN'    PERFECTIONV  li) 

a  vale  of  misery,  where  vice  and  madness,  dreams 
and  shadows,  variously  please,  agitate,  and  torment 
ihc  short  miserable  lives  of  men. 

Devils  also,  and  evil  spirits,  have  here  their  resi- 
dence, promoting  the  works  of  darkness,  and  wan^ 
dering  up  and  down  seeking  whom  they  may  devour. 

So  that  the  condition  of  man,  in  his  natural  state, 
seems  to  be  like  that  of  a  person  sick  of  a  variety  of 
diseases,  knowing  neither  his  distempers  nor  his 
cure,  and  unhappily  enclosed  in  some  place  where 
he  could  hear,  or  see,  or  feel,  or  taste  of  nothing, 
but  what  tended  to  inflame  his  disorders. 
.  The  excellency  therefore  of  the  Christian  reli- 
gion appears  in  this,  that  it  puts  an  end  to  this 
state  of  ihinirs.  blots  out  all  the  ideas  of  worldly 
wisdom,  brings  the  vv^orld  itself  to  ashes,  and  cre- 
ates all  anew.  It  calls  man  from  an  animal  life  and 
earthly  societies,  to  be  born  again  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  be  made  a  member  of  the  kingdom  of 
God. 

It  crushes  into  nothing  the  concerns  of  this  life, 
condemns  it  as  a  state  of  vanity  and  darkness,  and 
leads  man  to  happiness  with  God  in  the  realms  of 
liffht. 

It  proposes  the  purification  of  our  souls,  the  en- 
livening us  with  the  divine  spirit ;  it  sets  before  us 
new  goods  and  evils,  and  forms  us  to  a  glorious  par- 
ticipation of  the  divine  nature. 

This  is  the  one  sole  end  of  Christianity,  to  lead 
us  from  all  thoughts  of  rest  and  repose  here,  to  se- 
]>arate  us  from  the  world  and  worldly  tempers,  to 
deliver  us  from  the  fo^ly  of  our  passions,  the  sla- 
very of  our  own  natures,  the  power  of  evil  spirits, 
and  unite  us  to  God,  the  true  fountain  of  all  real 
good.  This  is  the  mighty  change  which  Chris- 
tianity aims  at,  to  put  us  inio  a  new  state,  reform 
our  whole  natures,  purify  our  souls  and  make  them 
the  inhabitants  of  hcavenlv  and  immortal  bodies. 


20  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

It  does  not  leave  us  to  grovel  on  in  the  desires  ot^ 
the  flesh,  to  cast  about  for  worldly  happiness,  and 
wander  in  darkness  and  exile  from  God,  but  pre- 
pares us  for  the  true  enjoyment  of  a  divine  life. 

The  manner  by  which  it  changes  this  whole  state- 
of  things,  and  raises  us  to  an  union  with  God,  iS 
equally  great  and  wonderful. 

I  am  the  Tu«;y,  the  truths  and  the  /i/e,  saith  our 
blessed  Saviour,  no  man  comefh  unto  iJu  Father  but 
by  me. 

As  all  things  were  at  first  created  by  the  Son  of 
God,  and  without  him  was  not  any  thing  made  that 
7oas  made^  so  are  all  things  again  restored  and  re- 
deemed by  the  same  divine  person. 

As  nothing  could  come  into  being  without  him, 
so  nothing  can  enter  into  a  state  of  happiness  or 
enjoyment  of  God  but  by  him. 

The  price  and  dignity  of  this  redemption  at  once 
confounds  the  pride,  and  relieves  the  misery  of  man. 
How  fallen  must  he  be  from  God,  how  disordered 
and  odious  his  nature,  that  should  need  so  great  a 
Mediator  to  recommend  his  repentance  ! — And  on 
the  other  hand,  how  full  of  com.fort,  that  so  high  a 
method,  so  stupendous  a  means  should  be  taken, 
to  restore  him  to  a  state  of  peace  and  favour  v.ith 
God! 

This  is  the  true  point  of  view  in  which  every 
Christian  is  to  behold  himself.  He  is  to  overlook 
the  poor  projects  of  human  life,  and  consider  him- 
splf  as  a  creature,  through  his  natural  corruption, 
falling  into  a  state  of  endless  misery,  but  by  the 
mercy  of  God  redeemed  to  a  condition  of  everlast- 
ing felicity. 
K«  All  the  precepts  and  doctrines  of  the  Gospel  are 
^  founded  on  these  two  gre?t  truths,  the  deplorable 
corruption  of  human  nature,  and  its  new  birth  in 
Christ  Jesus. 

The  one  includes  all  the  misery,  the  other  all  fke 
happiness  of  man. 


t)PON    CimiSTIAN    PERrECTrO??.  '21 

It  is  on  these  great  doctrines,  that  the  ^vho]e 
frame  of  Christianity  is  built,  forbidding  only  such 
things  as  fasten  us  to  the  disordeiT  of  sin,  and  com- 
manding only  those  duties  which  lead  us  into  the 
liberty  and  freedom  of  the  sons  of  God. 

The  corruption  of  our  nature  makes  mortifica- 
t'ion,  self-denial,  and  the  death  of  our  bodies  neces- 
sary. Because  human  nature  must  be  thus  unmade, 
Hesh  and  blood  must  be  thus  changed  before  it  can 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

Our  new  birth  makes  the  reception  of  God's  Spi- 
rit, and  the  participation  of  the  holy  sacraments 
necessary,  to  form  us  to  that  life  to  which  the  re- 
surrection of  Jesus  Christ  has  entitled  us. 

So  that  would  we  think,  and  act  and  live  like 
Christians,  we  must  act  suitably  to  these  terms  of 
our  condition,  fearing  oud  avoiding  all  the  motions 
of  our  corrupted  nature,  cherishing  the  secret  inspi- 
rations of  the  Holy  Spirit,  opening  our  mxinds  for 
the  reception  of  the  divine  lieht,  and  pressing  after 
the  graces  and  perfections  of  our  new  birth. 

We  must  behave  ourselves  conformably  to  this 
double  capacity,  we  must  fear,  and  watch,  and 
pray,  like  men  that  are  always  in  danger  of  eternal 
death,  and  we  must  believe  and  hope,  labour  and 
-aspire,  like  Christians,  that  are  cal'cd  to  fight  the 
good  fight  of  fpith,  and  lay  hold  on  eternal  life. 

1'his  knowledge  of  ourselves,  makes  human  life 
a  slate  of  infinite  importance,  placed  upon  so  dread- 
ful a  point  betwixt  two  such  eternities. 

Well  might  our  blessed  Saviour  soy  to  one,  that 
begged  first  to  go  and  bury  his  father,  follow  mr, 
and  let  the  dead  hiiry  their  dead. 

For  what  is  all  the  bustle  and  hurry  of  the  world 
but  dead  show,  and  its  greatest  agents  but  dead 
men,  when  compared  with  that  state  of  greatness, 
that  real  life,  to  which  the  followers  of  Christ  are 
redeemed  ? 

Had  wc  been  made  only  for  this  world,  worldly 


^  A    PRACTICAL   TREATIS-E 

wisdom  had  been  our  highest  wisdom  ;  but  scemg 
Christianity  has  redeemed  us  to  a  contrary  state, 
since  all  its  goods  are  in  opposition  to  this  life, 
worldly  wisdom  is  now  our  greatest  foolishness. 

It  is  now  our  only  wisdom  to  understand  our  new 
state  aright,  to  let  its  goods  and  evils  take  posses- 
sion of  our  hearts,  and  conduct  ourselves  by  the 
principles  of  our  redemption. 

The  nature  and  terms  of  our  Christian  calling  is 
of  that  concern  as  to  deserve  all  our  thoughts,  and 
is  indeed  only  to  be  perceived  by  great  seriousness 
and  attention  of  mind. 

The  Christian  state  is  an  invisible  life  in  the  Spi- 
rit of  God,  supported  not  by  sensible  goods,  but 
the  spiritual  graces  of  faith  and  hope  ;  so  that  the 
natural  man,  especially  while  busied  in  earthly 
cares  and  enjoyments,  easily  forgets  that  great  and 
heavenly  condition  in  which  religion  places  him. 

The  changes  which  Christianity  maketh  in  the 
present  state  of  things,  are  all  invisible,  its  goods 
and  evils,  its  dignities  and  advantages,  which  are 
the  only  true  standards  of  all  our  actions,  are  not 
subject  to  the  knowledge  of  our  senses. 

In  God  lye  live^  and  niove^  and  have  our  beings  but 
how  unseen,  how  unfelt  is  all  this  ! 

Christ  is  the  Lamb  slain  from  the  foundation  of  th% 
zoorld^  the  true  light,  that  lighteth  every  man  that 
Cometh  into  the  world.  He  is  the  alpha  and  ome^a^ 
the  beginning  and  end  of  all  things.  The  whole 
creation  subsists  in  him  and  by  him  ;  nothing  is  in 
any  order,  nor  any  person  in  any  favour  with  God, 
but  by  this  great  Mediator.  But  how  invisible, 
how  unknown  to  all  our  senses,  is  this  state  of 
things  ! 

The  apostle  tells  us,  that  we  Christians  arc  come 
unto  mount  Sion^  and  unto  the  city  of  the  livins^  God^ 
k)  the  heavenly  Jerusalem^  and  to  an  innumerable  com^ 
pany  of  angels^  and  to  the  general  assembly  of  thefrstt 


tJPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  Q3 

'born^  xcJiich  arc  written  in  heaven^  and  to  God  tJic  judge 
of  nil,  and  lo  the  spirits  of  just  nun       jj^^_  ^..^    22. 
made  perfect^  and  to  Jesus  the  Me- 
diator of  the  nezv  covenant^  ^x. 

But  our  senses  see  or  feel  nothing  of  this  state  of 
glory,  they  only  show  us  a  society  amongst  vain 
and  worldly  men,  labouring  and  contending  for  the 
poor  enjoyments  of  a  vain  world. 

We  are  temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  consecrated 
to  God,  members  of  Christ's  mystical  body,  of  his 
flesh  and  of  his  bones,  receiving  life,  spirit,  and 
motion  from  him  our  head. 

But  our  senses  see  no  farther  than  our  parents 
and  kindred  according  to  the  flesh,  and  fix  our 
hearts  to  earthly  friendships  and  relations. 

Religion  turns  our  whole  life  into  a  sacrifice  to 
God,  a  state  of  probation,  from  whence  v/e  must  all 
appear  before  the  judgment-seat  of  Christy 
that  every  one  may  receive  the  things  done    2  Cor.  V.  9. 
in  his  hody^  ^c. 

But  our  senses,  the  maxims  of  this  life,  and  the 
spirit  of  the  world,  teach  quite  another  turn  of  mind ; 
to  enjoy  the  good  things  of  life  as  our  portion,  to 
seek  after  riches  and  honours,  and  to  dread  nothing 
so  much  as  poverty,  disgrace,  and  persecution. 
Well  may  this  life  be  deemed  a  state  of  darkness, 
since  it  thus  clouds  and  covers  all  the  true  appear- 
ances of  things,  and  keeps  our  minds  insensible, 
and  unaffected  with  matters  of  such  infinite  moment. 

We  must  observe,  that  in  scripture,  Christianity 
is  constantly  represented  to  us,  as  a  redemption 
from  the  slavery  and  corruption  of  our  nature,  and 
a  raising  us  to  a  nearer  enjoyment  of  the  divine 
glory. 

It  knows  of  no  misery,  but  the  death  and  misery 
which  sin  has  made,  nor  of  any  happiness  but  the 
gifts  and  graces  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  forms  us 
It)  a  greater  likeness  of  God# 


'M  A  PRACTICAL  TREATISB 

Thus  saith  the  apostle,  Jesus  Christ 
gave  himself  for  us^  that  he  might   re-      Tit.    ii.    13. 
deem  us  from  all  inirjuily. 

He  2vas  manifested  to  take  aivay  our  1  John  iii.  5* 
•sins. 

Who  gave  himself  for  our  sins,  that  he  might  deliver 
us  from  this  evil  icorld. 

The  same  scriptures  teach  us,  that  as  we  are  re- 
deemed from  this  state  of  sin,  so  we  are  raised  to  a 
new  life  in  Christ,  to  a  participation  of  the  divine 
nature,  and  a  fellowship  with  him  in  glory. 

Thus  our  blessed  Saviour  prayeth  for  all  his  fol- 
lowers, That  they  may  all  be  one,  as  thou,  Father, 
art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee  ;  that  they  also  may  he  one  in 
us,  And  the  glory  which  thou  gavest  me,  I  have  given 
them,  that  they  may  be  one  even  as  toe  are 
one.  I  in  them,  and  thou  in  me,  that  John  xvii.  21. 
they  may  be  made  perfect  in  one. 

Happy  he  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  and  a  heart  to 
feel  the  majesty  and  glory  of  this  description  of  our 
new  life  in  Christ ! 

For  surely  could  we  understand  what  our  Saviour 
conceived,  when  he  sent  up  this  prayer  to  God,  our 
hearts  would  be  always  praying,  and  our  souls  ever 
aspiring  after  this  state  ot  perfection,  this  union 
with  Christ  in  God. 

To  proceed,  In  my  Father''s  house,  saith  Christ, 
are  many  mansions.     I  go  to  prepare  a 
place  for  you,  that  rvhere  1  am  there  ye    John  xiv.  23.. 
■may  be  also. 

The  apostle  tells  us,  that  as  roe  have 
borne  the  image  of  the  earthly,  zi^e  shall      1  Cor.  xv., 
also  bear  the  imuge  of  the  heavenly. 

And  that  7chen  Christ  rvho  is  our  life 
shall  appear,  then  shall  ice  also  appear      Col.  iii.  4. 
zoifh  him  in  glory. 

Beloved,  saith  St.  John,  nozu  are  rue  the  sons  of 
Godj  and  it  doth  not  yet  appear,  tvhat  ^ 

ice  shall  be :  but  ice  knozc,  that  zchcn  he   1  John  iiit  2. 


UPON    CHRISTIAN  PERFECTION.  25 

shall  appear^  xoe  shall  be  like  him  :  for  ivc  shall  see 
him  as  he  is, 

I  cannot  leave  this  passage,  without  adding  the 
apostle's  conclusion  to  it.  And  evo-y  man  that  hath 
this  hope  in  him^  pnrifeth  himself  even  as  he  is  pure. 

Which  Icachcth  us  this  lesson,  that  no  man, 
whatever  he  may  think  of  his  Christian  improve- 
ment, can  be  said  to  have  this  hope  in  him,  unless 
he  shews  it  by  such  a  purification  of  himself,  as 
may  resemble  the  purity  of  Christ. — But  to  return. 

St.  Paul  thus  breaks  forth  into  the  praises  of  God, 
Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christy  ^cho  hath  blessed  us     Ephes.  i.  3. 
icith  all  spiritual  blessings  in   heavenly 
places  in  Christ,     And   again,  God^  who  is  rich  in 
mercy^  for  his  great  love  luherewith  he  loved  us^  even 
7chen  ice  zvere  dead  in  sins^  hath  quickened  us  together 
zvith  Christ:  and  hath  raised  us  up  to- 
gether and  made    us  sit  together  in     Ephes.  ii.  4. 
heavenly  places  in  Christ  Jesus, 

These  passages  teach  us,  that  Christianity  intro- 
duceth  us  into  a  new  state,  made  up  of  invisible 
goods  and  spiritual  blessings,  that  it  so  alters  our 
condition  as  to  give  us  a  new  rank  and  degree  even 
in  this  life  ;  which  the  apostle  expresses,  by  mak- 
ing us  sit  tos:cther  in  heavenly  places. 

So  that  though  we  are  still  in  the  flesh,  yet,  as 
the  apostle  saith,  need  we  know  no  man  after  the 
flesh  ;  though  we  are  still  inhabitants  of  this  vale 
of  misery,  yet  are  we  ranked  and  placed  in  a  certain 
order  amongst  heavenly  beings  in  Christ  Jesus. 

Would  we,  therefore,  I' now  our.  true  rank  and 
condition,  and  what  place  we  belong  to,  in  the  order 
of  beings,  we  must  search  af'er  a  life  that  is  Jtid  with 
Christ  in  God,  We  must  consider  ourselves  as  parts 
of  Christ's  mystical  bodv,  and  a?  members  of  a  king- 
dom of  heaven.  In  vain  do  we  consider  the  Iseauty 
and  strength  of  »:ur  bodies,  our  alliances  with  rnenj 
the  privileges  of  birth,  and  the  distinctions  of  this 

3 


26  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE. 

world,  for  these  things  no  more  constitute  the  state 
of  human  iile,  than  rich  coffins^  or  beautiful  monu- 
ments^ constitute  the  slate  of  the  dead. 

We  justly  pity  the  last  poor  efforts  of  human 
greatness,  when  we  see  a  breathless  carcass  lying  in 
Hate.  It  appears  to  us  to  be  so  far  from  any  real 
honour,  that  it  rather  looks  like  ridiculing  the  mis- 
ery of  our  nature.  But  were  religion  to  form  our 
judgments,  the  life  of  a  proud  voluptuous,  and 
sensual  man,  though  shining  in  all  the  splendor  of 
the  world,  would  give  us  no  higher  an  idea  of  hu- 
man dignity,  than  a  poor  lifeless  corpse  laid  in  state. 
For  a  sinner^  when  glorying  in  the  lust  ofthejfesh^ 
the  lust  of  the  eyes^  and  the  pride  of  life  shows  us  a 
more  shocking  sight  of  misery  ridiculed  than  any 
pageantry  that  can  expose  the  dead. 

We  have  an  apostle's  authority  to  sa}^,  that  lie 
7i.'holheth  in  pleasure  is  dead  ivhile  he  Uveth, 

This  shows  us,  that  when  wc  enquire  what  our 
life  is,  or  wherein  it  consists,  we  must  think  of 
something  higher  than  the  vigour  of  our  blood,  the 
gayety  of  our  spirits,  or  the  enjoyment  of  sensil)le 
pleasures  ;  since  these,  though  the  allowed  signs  of 
living  men,  are  often  undeniable  proofs  of  dead 
Christians. 

When  therefore  we  would  truly  know  what  our 
life,  our  state,  our  dignity,  our  good,  or  our  evil  is, 
wc  must  look  at  nothing  that  is  tempoi'al,  worldh% 
or  sensible.  We  may  as  well  dig  in  the  earth  for 
wisdom,  as  look  at  flesh  and  blood  to  see  what  we 
are,  or  at  worldly  enjoyments  to  find  what  we  want, 
or  at  temporal  evils  to  see  what  we  have  to  fear. 

Our  blessed  Saviour  })ut  an  absolute  end  to  all 
enquiries  of  this  kind,  when  he  said. 
Be  not  afraid  of  them  that  kill  the  hody^    Luke  xii.  4. 
and  after  that   have   no  more  that  they 
can  do, 

litre  our  bodies,  and  all  bodily  enjo^^ments,  are^ 
a*t:  one  dash,  struck  out  of  the  account  of  happiness, 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  27 

arid  the  present  state  of  things  made  so  very  low 
and  insignificant,  that  he  who  can  only  deprive  us 
of  them,  has  not  power  enough  to  deserve  our  fear. 

We  must  therefore,  if  we  would  conceive  our 
true  state,  our  real  good  and  evil,  look  farther  than 
the  dim  eyes  of  flesh  can  carry  our  views,  we  must, 
with  the  eyes  of  faith,  penetrate  into  the  invisible 
world,  the  world  of  spirits,  and  consider  our  order 
and  condition  amongst  them,  a  world  which  (as  St. 
John  speaks)  has  no  need  of  the  snn^  neither  of  the 
moon^  to  shine  in  it^  for  the  glory  of  God  doth  lighten 
it,  and  the  light  of  the  Lamb.  For  it  is  there,  amongst 
eternal  beings,  that  we  must  take  an  eternal  fellow- 
ship, or  fall  into  a  kingdom  of  darkness  and  ever- 
lasting misery. 

Christianity  is  so  divine  in  its  nature,  so  nolile  in 
Its  ends,  so  extensive  in  its  views,  that  it  has  no  less 
subjects  than  these  to  entertain  our  thoughts. 

It  buries  our  bodies,  burns  the  present  world, 
triuDiphs  over  death  by  a  general  resurrection,  and 
ODcns  all  into  an  eternal  state. 

It  never  considers  us  in  any  other  respect,  than 
as  fallen  spirits  :  it  disregards  the  distinctions  of 
liuman  society,  and  proposes  nothing  to  our  fears, 
but  eternal  misery,  nor  any  thing  to  our  hopes  bu:, 
an  endless  enjoyment  of  the  divine  nature. 

This  is  the  great  and  important  condition  in 
which  Christianity  has  placed  us,  above  our  bodies, 
above  the  world,  above  death,  to  be  present  at  the 
dissolution  of  all  things,  to  see  the  earth  in  ilames, 
and  the  heavens  wrapt  up  like  a  scroll,  to  stand  at 
the  general  resurrection,  to  appear  at  the  universal 
judgment,  and  to  live  for  ever,  when  all  that  our 
eyes  have  seen  is  passed  away  and  gone. 

Take  upon  thee,  therefore,  a  spirit  and  tempci' 
suitable  to  this  greatness  of  thy  condition  ;  remem- 
ber that  thou  art  an  eternal  spirit,  that  thou  art. 
for  a  few  months  and  years,  in  a  state  of  flesh  and 
blogd,  only  to  try  whether  thou  shall  be  for  ever 


28.  A  PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

happy  with  God,  or  fall  into  cvci'lasting  misery  with' 
the  devil. 

Thou  wilt  often  hear  of  other  concerns,  and  other 
greatness  in  this  world  ;  thou  wilt  see  every  order  oi" 
men,  every  family,  every  person  pursuing  some  fan- 
cied happiness  of  his  own,  as  if  the  world  had  nor 
only  happiness,  but  a  particular  kind  of  happiness 
for  all  its  inhabitants. 

But  when  thou  seest  this  state  of  human  life,  fancy 
that  thou  sawest  all  the  world  asleep,  the  prince  no 
longer  a  prince,  the  beggar  no  longer  begging,  but 
every  man  sleeping  out  his  proper  state  ;  some 
linppy,  others  tormented,  and  all  changing  their 
condition  as  fast  as  one  fooli.»h  dream  could  succeed 
tuiouier. 

V/licii  tliOLi  hast  seen  this,  thou  hast  seen  all  that 
the  world  awake  can  do  for  thee  ;  if  thou  wilt,  thou 
may  est  go  to  sleep  for  a  while,  thou  may  est  lie  down 
and  dream  ;  for  be  as  happy  as  the  world  can  make 
ihee,  all  is  but  sleeping  and  dreaming,  and  what  is 
still  worse,  it  is  like  sleeping  in  a  ship  when  thou 
shouldest  be  pumping  out  the  water ;  or  dreaming 
thou  art  a  prince,  when  thou  shouldest  be  redeem- 
ing thyself  from  slavery. 

Now  this  is  no  imaginary  flight  of  a  melancholy 
fancy,  that  too  much  exceeds  the  nature  of  things, 
but  a  sober  reflection  justly  suited  to  the  vanity  of 
worldly  enjoyments. 

For  if  the  doctrines  of  Christianity  are  true,  if  ihou 
art  that  creature,  that  fallen  spirit,  that  inmiortal 
nature  which  religion  teaches  us,  if  thou  art  to  meet 
death,  resurrection,  and  judgment,  as  the  forerun- 
ners of  an  eternal  state,  what  are  all  the  little 
flashes  of  pleasure,  the  changing  appearances  of 
worldly  felicities,  but  so  many  sorts  of  dreams  ? 

How  canst  thou  talk  of  the  happiness  of  riches, 
the  advantages  of  fortune,  the  pleasm'os  of  apparel, 
of  state  and  equipa2;o,  v.ithout  being  in  a  dream  ? 

1%  the  hcsraar  asleep,  when  he  fancies  he  is  build- 


UPON    CHRISTEN  .  I'ERFECTIO.V.  i^i> 

mg  himself  fine  houses  ?  Is  the  prisoner  in  a  dream 
when  he  imagines  himself  in  open  fields  and  lino 
groves  ?  And  canst  thou  think  that  thy  immortal 
spirit  is  awake,  whilst  it  is  delighting  itself  in  the 
shadows  and  bubbles  of  worldly  happiness  ? 

For  if  it  be  true,  that  man  is  upon  his  trial,  if  the 
trial  is  for  eternity,  if  life  is  but  a  vapour,  what  is 
there  that  deserves  a  serious  thought,  but  how  to 
get  well  out  of  the  world,  and  make  it  a  right  pas- 
sage to  our  eternal  state  ? 

How  can  we  prove  that  we  are  awake,  that  our 
ej^es  are  open,  but  by  seeing  and  feeling,  and  living 
according  to  these  important  circumstances  of  our 
life? 

If  a  man  should  endeavour  to  please  thee  with 
fine  descriptions  of  the  riches,  and  pleasures,  and 
dignities  of  the  world  in  the  moon,  adding  that  its 
air  is  always  serene,  and  its  seasons  always  pleasant, 
wouldest  thou  not  think  it  a  sufficient  answer,  to  say, 
/  am  not  to  Ike  there  ? 

When  thy  own  false  heart  is  endeavouring  to 
please  itself  with  worldly  expectations,  the  joy  of 
this  or  that  way  of  life,  is  it  not  as  good  a  reproof 
to  say  to  thyself,  /  am  not  to  stay  here  ? 

For  where  is  the  ditlerence  betwixt  an  earthly 
happiness,  from  which  thou  art  to  be  separated  for 
ever,  and  a  happiness  in  the  moon  to  which  thou 
art  never  to  go  ?  Thou  art  to  be  for  ever  separated 
from  the  earth,  thou  art  to  be  eternal,  when  the 
earth  itself  is  lost,  is  it  not  therefore  the  same  vanity 
to  project  for  happiness  on  earth,  as  to  propose  a 
happiness  in  the  moon  ?  For  as  thou  art  nexev  to  go 
to  the  one,  so  thou  art  to  be  eternally  separated 
from  the  other. 

Indeed  the  littleness  and  insignificancy  of  the 
boasted  honours  of  human  life,  appear  stifficienlly 
from  the  things  themselves,  without  comparing  them 
with  the  subjects  of  religion. 

For  see  what  they  ^re  in  themselves. 
3* 


3Q  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

Ahasucrus^  that  great  prince  of  the  eastern  world, 
puts   a  question   to   Hainan^  his  chief  minister  of 
state,  he  asks  him,  ivhat  shall  he  done 
unto  the  man^  whom  the  king  delighteth    Esther  vi.  6. 
to  honour. 

Haman  imagining  that  he  was  the  person  whom 
the  king  had  in  his  thoughts,  answered  in  these 
Vv'ords : 

Let  the  royal  apparel  be  brought  which  the  king  used 
to  loear^  and  the  horse  that  the  king  ridelh  tipoji^  and 
the  croicn  royal  zvhich  is  set  upon  his  head  ;  and  let 
this  apparel  and  horse  be  delivered  to  the  hand  of  one 
of  the  king's  most  noble  princes,  that  they  may  array 
the  man  icithal,  rchom  the  king  deli ghtelh  tohononr,  and 
bring  (hem  on  horseback  thro^igh  the  street  of  the  city. 
and  proclaim  before  him^  thus  shall  it  be  done  to  the  man 
7Phom  the  king  delighteth  to  honour. 

Here  you  see  the  sum  total  of  worldly  honours. 

An  ambitious  Haman  cannot  think  of  any  thing 
greater  to  ask  ;  Ahasuems,  the  greatest  monarch  in 
the  world,  has  nothing  greater  to  give  to  his  great- 
est favourite  ;  powerful  as  he  is,  he  can  only  give 
such  honours  as  these. 

Yet  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  if  a  poor  nurse  was  ta 
please  her  child,  she  must  talk  to  it  in  the  same  lan- 
guage, she  must  please  it  with  the  same  fine  things, 
and  gratify  its  pride  with  honours  of  the  same  kind. 

Yet  these  are  the  mighty  thina;s,  for  which  men 
forget  God,  forget  their  immortality,  forget  the  dif- 
ference betwixt  an  eternity  in  heaven,  and  an  eter- 
nity in  hell. 

There  needs  no  great  understanding,  no  mighty 
depth  of  thought,  to  see  through  the  vanity  of  all 
Worldly  enjoyments  ;  do  but  talk  of  them,  and  you. 
will  be  forced  to  talk  of  gewgaws,  of  ribbons,  and 
feathers.  ; 

Every  man  sees  the  littleness  of  all  sorts  of  ho- 
nours, but  those  which  he  is  looking  after  himself. 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  31 

.  A  private  English  gentleman,  that  is  half  dis- 
tracted till  he  has  got  some  little  distinction,  does,, 
ot  the  same  time,  despise  the  highest  honours  of 
other  countries,  and  would  not  leave  his  own  con- 
dition to  possess  the  ridiculous  greatness  of  an 
Indian  king.  He  sees  the  vanity  and  falseness  of 
their  honours,  but  forgets  that  all  honour  placed  in 
external  things,  is  equally  vain  and  false. 

He  does  not  consider  that  the  difference  of  great- 
ness is  only  the  difference  of  flowers  and  feathers  ; 
and  that  they  who  are  dressing  themselves  with 
hrjids^  have  as  just  a  taste  of  what  adorns  their  per- 
sons as  they  w  ho  place  the  same  pride  in  diamonds. 

When  we  read  of  an  Eastern  prince,  that  is  too 
great  to  feed  himself,  and  thinks  it  a  piece  of  gran- 
deur to  'have  other  people  put  his  meat  into  his 
mouth,  we  despise  the  folly  of  his  pride. 

But  might  we  not  as  well  des})ise  the  folly  of 
their  pride,  who  are  ashamed  to  use  their  legs,  and 
think  it  adds  to  their  state  to  be  removed  from  one 
place  to  another  by  other  people. 

For  he  that  thinks  it  stately  to  be  carried,  and 
mean  to  walk  on  foot,  has  as  true  notions  of  great-- 
ness,  as  he  who  is  too  haughty  to  put  his  meat  into 
his  own  mouth. 

Again,  h  is  the  manner  of  some  countries  in  the 
burial  of  their  dead  to  put  a  staff,  and  shoes,  and 
money  in  the  SepuVhre  along  with  the  corpse. 

We  justly  censure  the  folly  and  ignorance  of  such 
a  poor  contrivance  to  assist  the  dead ;  but  if  we  did 
as  truly  understand  what  life  is,  we  should  see  as 
much  to  ridicule  in  the  poor  contrivances  to  assist 
the  living. 

For  how  many  things   in  life  do  people  labour 
after,  break  their  rest  and  peace  to    get,    which, 
yet,  vvhen  ^ot^en,  are  of  as  much  real  use  to  them 
as  a  staff  and  shoes  to  a  c  rpse  under  jErroimd  ?  Ihey 
are  always  adding  sonicthing  to  their  life,  which  is 


A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

only  like  adding  another  pair  of  shoes  to  a  bodj  iii 
the  grave. 

Thou  mayest  hire  more  servants,  new  paint  ihy 
rooms,  make  more  fine  beds,  eat  out  of  plate^  and 
put  on  richer  apparel,  and  these  will  help  thee  to 
be  as  happy,  as  golden  staves,  ov  painted  shoes,  will 
help  a  dead  man  to  walk. 

See  here,  therefore,  the  true  nature  of  all  worldly 
skoro  and  figure^  it  will  make  \is  as  great  as  those 
are,  who  are  dreaming  that  they  are  kings,  as  rich 
as  those  who  fancy  that  they  have  estates  in  the 
moon,  and  as  happy  as  those  who  are  buried  with 
staves  in  their  hands. 

Now  this  is  not  carrying  matters  too  high,  or  im- 
posing upon  ourselves  with  any  subtleties  of  reason- 
ing, or  sound  of  words  5  for  the  value  of  worldly 
)-iches  and  honor  can  no  more  be  too  much  les- 
sened, than  the  riches  and  greatness  of  the  other 
life  can  be  too  much  exalted.  We  do  not  cheat 
ourselves  out  of  any  real  happiness,  by  looking  upon 
all  worldly  honours  as  bubbles,  any  more  than  we 
cheat  ourselves  by  securing  honours  that  are  solid 
and  eternal. 

There  is  no  more  happiness  lost  by  not  being 
great  and  rkh^  as  those  are  among  whom  we  live, 
than  by  not  being  dressed  and  adorned  as  they  arc, 
who  live  in  China  and  Japan. 

Thou  art  no  happier  for  having  painted  ceilings, 
and  marble  walls  in  thy  house,  than  if  the  same 
finery  was  in  thy  stuhies  ;  if  thou  eatest  upon  plate 
it  maketh  thee  just  as  happy  as  if  thy  horses  wore 
silver  shoes. 

To  disregard  gold,  jewels,  and  equipage,  is  no 
more  running  away  from  any  real  good  than  if  we 
only  despised  a  feather,  or  a  garland  of  flowers. 

So  that  he  v/ho  condemns  aU  the  external  show 
tmd  state  as  equally  vain,  is  no  more  deceived,  or- 
<iarricd  to  too  high  a  contempt  for  the  things  of  this 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  SS 

life,  than  he  that  only  condemns  the  vanity  of  the 
\  ainest  things.    . 

You  do  not  think  yourself  imposed  upon,  or  talk- 
ed out  of  any  real  happiness,  when  you  are  per- 
suaded not  to  be  vain  and  amljitious  as  Alexander. 

And  can  you  think  that  you  are  imposed  upon, 
or  drawn  from  any  real  good,  by  being  persuaded 
to  be  as  meek  and  lowly  as  the  holy  Jesus  ? 

There  is  as  much  sober  judgment  and  sound  sense 
in  conforming  to  the  fulness  of  Christ's  humility,  as 
in  avoiding  the  height  and  extravagance  of  Alexan- 
der's vanity. 

Do  not,  therefore,  think  to  compound  matters, 
or  that  it  is  enough  to  avoid  the  vanity  of  the  vain- 
est men.  There  is  as  much  folly  in  seeking  little  as 
great  honours  :  as  great  a  mistake  in  needless  ex- 
pense upon  thyself  as  upon  any  thing  else.  Thou 
must  not  only  be  less  vain  and  ambitious  than  an 
Alexander,  but  practise  the  humility  of  the  blessed 
,lesu5. 

If  thou  rememberest  that  the  whole  race  of  man- 
kind are  a  race  of  fallen  spirits,  that  pass  through 
this  world  as  an  arrow  passes  through  the  air,  thou 
wilt  soon  perceive  that  all  things  here  are  equally 
great  and  equally  little,  and  that  there  is  no  wisdon> 
or  happiness,  but  in  getting  away  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage. 

If  tiiou  rememberest  that  (his  life  is  but  a  vapour, 
that  thou  art  in  the  body,  only  to  be  holy,  humble, 
and  heavenly-minded,  that  thou  standest  upon  the 
brinks  of  death,  resurrection,  and  judgment,  and 
that  these  great  things  will  suddenly  come  upon 
thee,  like  a  thief  in  the  night,  thou  wilt  see  a  vanity 
in  all  the  gifts  of  fortune,  greater  than  any  words 
can  express. 

Do  but,  therefore,  know  thvself,  as  religion  has 
made  thee  known,  do  but  see  thyself  in  the  . light, 
which  Christ  has  brought  into  the  world,  and  then 
'thou  wilt  see  that  nothing  concerns  thee  but  ^vhd^i 


34  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

roncerns  an  everlasting  spirit  that  is  going  to  God  ; 
and  that  there  are  no  enjoyments  here  that  arc 
worth  a  thought,  but  such  as  may  make  thee  more 
perfect  in  those  holy  tempers  which  will  carry  thcjc 
lo  heaven. 


€HAP.  11. 

Christianity  requires  a  Change  of  Nature^  a  new  Lif& 
perfectly  devoted  to  God, 

CHRISTIANITY  is  not  a  school  for  the  teaching 
of  moral  virtue,  the  polishing  our  manners,  or  form- 
ing us  to  live  a  life  of  this  world  with  decency  and 
gentility. 

It  is  deeper  and  more  divine  in  its  designs,  and  hias 
much  nobler  ends  than  these ;  it  implies  an  entire 
change  of  life,  a  dedication  of  ourselves,  our  souls 
and  bodies  unto  God,  in  the  strictest  and  highest 
sense  of  the  words. 

Our  blessed  Saviour  came  into  the  world  not  to 
make  any  composition  with  it,  or  to  divide  things 
between  heaven  and  earth,  but  to  make  war  with 
every  state  of  life,  to  put  an  end  to  the  designs 
of  flesh  and  blood,  and  to  show  us,  that  we  must 
cither  leave  this  world  tabecome^sons  of  God,  or, 
by  enjoying  it,  take  our  portion  amongst  devils  and 
damned  spirits. 

Death  is  not  more  certainly  a  separation  of  our 
souls  from  our  bodies,  than  the  Christian  life  is  a 
separation  of  our  souls  from  worldly  tempers,  vain 
induigencies,  and  unnecessary  cares. 

No  sooner  are  we  baptized,  but  we  are  to  consid- 
er ourselves  as  new  and  holy  persons,  that  are  en- 
tered upon  a  new  state  of  things,  that  arc  devoted 
to  God,  and  have  renounced  all  to  be  fellovv-hcirs 
vrith  Christ,  and  members  of  his  kingdom. 


tFON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  35 

There  is  no  alteration  of  life,  no  change  of  con 
dition,  that  implies  half  so  much  as  that  alteration 
which  Christianity  introduceth. 

It  is  a  kingdom  of  heaven  begun  upon  earth,  and 
hj  being  made  members  of  it,  we  are  entered  into  a 
new  state  of  goods  and  evils. 

Eternity  aliereth  the  face  and  nature  of  every 
thing  in  this  world,  life  is  only  a  trial,  prosperity 
becometh  adversity,  pleasure  a  mischief,  and  no- 
thing a  good,  but  as  it  increaseth  our  hope,  puri- 
fieth  our  natures,  and  prepareth  us  to  receive  high- 
er degrees  of  happiness. 

Let  us  now  see  what  it  is  to  enter  into  this  state 
of  redemption. 

Our  own  church,  in  conformity  with  Scripture, 
Jmd  the  practice  of  the  purest  ages,  makes  it  neces- 
sary for  us  to  renounce  the  pomps  and  vanitifs  of  the 
7i'ortd,  before  we  can  be  received  members  of 
Christian  communion. 

Did  we  enough  consider  this,  we  should  find  that 
w^henever  we  yield  ourselves  up  to  the  pleasures, 
profits,  and  honours  of  this  life,  that  we  turn  apos- 
tates, break  our  covenant  w^ith  God,  and  go  back 
from  the  express  conditions,  on  which  w^e  were  ad- 
mitted into  the  communion  of  Christ's  church. 

If  we  consult  either  the  life  or  doctrines  of  our 
Saviour,  we  shall  find  that  Christianity  is  a  cove- 
nant, that  contains  only  the  terms  of  changing  and 
resigning  this  world  for  another  that  is  to  come. 
It  is  a  state  of  things  that  wholly  regards  eternity, 
and  knows  of  no  other  goods  and  evils  but  such  as 
relate  to  another  life. 

It  is  a  kingdom  of  heaven,  that  has  no  other 
interests  in  this  world  than  as  it  takes  its  members 
out  of  it,  and  when  the  number  of  the  elect  is  com- 
plete this  world  will  be  consumed  with  fire  as  hav- 
ing no  other  reason  of  its  existence  than  the  furnish- 
ing members  for  that  blessed  society,  which  is  to  last 
forever.  * 


36  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

I  cannot  here  omit  observing  the  folly  and  vanity 
of  human  wisdom,  which,  full  of  imaginary  pro- 
jects, pleases  itself  with  its  mighty  prosperities,  its 
lasting  establishments  in  a  world  doomed  to  destruc- 
tion, and  which  is  to  last  no  longer  than  till  a  sufli- 
cient  number  are  redeemed  out  of  it. 

Did  we  see  a  number  of  animals  hastening  to 
lake  up  their  apartments,  and  contending  for  the 
best  places,  in  a  building  that  was  to  be  beat  down, 
as  soon  as  the  old  inhabitants  were  safe  out,  we 
should  see  a  contention  full  as  wise  as  the  wisdom 
of  worldly  ambition. 

To  return.  Christianity  is  therefore,  a  course 
of  holy  discipline,  solely  fitted  to  the  cure  and 
I'ecovery  of  fallen  spirits,  and  intends  such  a  change 
in  our  nature,  as  may  raise  us  to  a  nearer  union  with 
^  God,  and  qualify  us  for  such  high  degree  of  happi- 
ness. 

It  is  no  wonder,  therefore,  if  it  makes  no  provi- 
sion for  the  flesh,  if  it  condemns  the  maxims  of 
human  wisdom,  and  indulges  us  in  no  worldly  pro- 
jects, since  its  very  end  is  to  redeem  us  from  all 
the  vanity,  vexation,  and  misery,  of  this  state  of 
things,  and  to  place  us  in  a  condition  where  we 
shall  be  fellow-heirs  with  Christ,  and  as  the  angel* 
of  God. 

That  Christianity  requires  a  change  of  nature,  a 
new  life  perfectly  devoted  to  Cod,  is  plain  from  the 
spirit  and  tenour  of  the  Gospel. 

The  Saviour  of  the  world  saith,  that  except  a  man 
he  born  again,  of  water  and  the  Spirit,       j^j^^^   ...    ^^ 
he    cannot   enter   into    the   k'gihmi    of     ' 
God,     We  are  told,  that  to  as  many  as  received  him, 
to   them  he  gave  power   to  become   the  sons   of  God^ 
7vh}ch  7cei-e  horn,  net  of  hJood,  nor  cf  the    x  \.y^   ■     10 
win  of  the  fesh,  nor  of  the  will  of  n.an, 
hut  of  God, 

These  words  plainly  teach  us  that  Cl.ristianily 
implies  some  great  change  of  nature;  that  as  our 


(- 


UrON   CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  37 

fcirth  was  to  us  the  beginning  of  a  new  life,  and 
brought  us  into  a  society  of  earthly  enjoyments, 
so  Christianity  is  another  birth,  that  brings  us  into 
a  condition  altogether  as  new  as  when  we  first  saw 
the  light. 

AVe  begin  again  to  be,  we  enter  upon  fresh  terms 
of  life,  have  new  relations,  new  hopes  and  fears, 
and  an  entire  change  of  every  thing  that  can  be 
called  good  or  evil. 

This  new  birth,  this  principle  of  a  new  life,  is 
the  very  essence  and  soul  of  Christianity,  it  is  the 
seal  of  the  promises,  the  mark  of  our  sonship,  the 
earnest  of  the  inheritance,  the  security  of  our  hope, 
and  the  foundation  of  all  our  acceptance  with  God. 

He  that  is  in  Christ,  saith  the  apostle,  is  a  neio 

creature,  and  if  any  man  hath  not  the    r,  •••    n 

Q^  '  '4    m    •  4  J     •  /•  7  •  Rom.  vni.  9, 

ojoir/^  of  Lanst  he  is  none  oj  his. 

And  again.   He  toko  is  joined  to  the  ^  ^        r-    -in 
T     J  •  •  •,  1  i^or.  VI.  1 7» 

hord  IS  one  spirit. 

It  is  not,  therefore,  any  number  of  moral  virtues, 
no  partial  obedience,  no  modes  of  worship,  no  ex- 
ternal acts  of  adoration,  no  articles  of  faith,  but  a 
new  principle  of  life,  an  entire  change  of  temper, 
that  makes  us  true  Christians. 
(/  If  the  Spirit  of  him  v)ho  raised  up  Jesus  from  the. 
dead  dwell  in  you,  he  that  raised  up  Christ  from  the 
dead  shall  also  quicken  your  mortal    bodies    by    his 

Spirit  that  dwelleth  in  you.     For  as     -o  •••    ^  .. 

J,  1  J  I.    4-L    Q!  '  -,    rn    1      Kom.  VHi.  II. 

many  as  are  led  by  the  Spirit  of  hod, 

they  are  the  sons  of  God, 

Since,  therefore,  the  Scriptures  thus  absolutely 
require  a  life  suitable  to  the  spirit  and  temper  of 
Jesus  Christ,  since  they  allow  us  not  the  privilege 
of  the  sons  of  God,  unless  we  live  and  act  accord- 
ing to  the  Spirit  of  God  ;  it  is  past  doubt,  that 
Chrisiianity  requires  an  entire  change  of  .nature 
and  trmper.  a  life  p'^rfectly  devoted  to  God. 

For  whi^t  can  imp^y  a  greater  change  than  from 
«  carnal  to  a  spiritual  mind  ?     AVhat  can  be  more 

4 


38  A  PRACTICAL  TREATISE 

contrary  than  the  works  of  the  flesh  are  to  the 
works  of  the  Spirit  ?  It  is  the  difference  of  heaven 
and  hell. 

Light  and  darkness  are  but  faint  resemblances 
of  that  great  contrariety  that  is  betwixt  the  spirit 
of  God  and  the  spirit  of  the  world. 

Its  wisdom  is  foolishness,  its  friendship  is  enmity 
with  God. 

AH  that  is  in  the  zcorld^  the  lust  of 
the  fleshy  the  lust  of  the  eyes^  and  the       1  John  ii.   16. 
pride  of  life^  is  7iot  of  the  Father, 

Worldly  opinions,  proud  reasonings,  fleshly  cares, 
and  earthly  projects,  are  all  so  many  false  judg- 
ments, mere  lies,  and  we  know  v>ho  is  the  father  of 
lies. 

For  this  reason  the  Scripture  makes  the  devil  the 
god  and  prince  of  this  world,  because  the  spirit  and 
temper  which  reigns  there  is  entirely  from  him  ; 
and  so  far  as  we  are  governed  by  the  wisdom  and 
temper  of  the  world,  so  far  are  we  governed  by 
that  evil  power  of  darkness. 

If  we  would  see  more  of  this  contrariety,  and 
v.'hat  a  change  our  new  life  in  Christ  implies,  let  us 
consider  what  it  is  to  be  borri  of  God. 

St.  John  tells  us  one  sure  mark  of  our  new  birth, 
in  the  following  words.  He  that  is  born  -  pi         . 
of  God  overcomelh  the  rcorld,  ■  i    *    *    ' 

So  that  the  nezi)  birth,  or  the  Christian  life,  is 
considered  with  opposition  to  the  ivorld,  and  all 
that  is  in  it,  its  vain  cares,  its  false  glories,  proud 
designs,  and  sensual  pleasures ;  if  we  have  overcome 
these,  so  as  to  be  governed  by  other  cares,  other 
glories,  oth^^'-  designs,  and  other  pleasures,  then  are 
we  born  of  God.  Then  is  the  wisdom  of  this  world, 
and  the  fi-icndship  of  this  world,  turned  into  the 
wisdom  and  friendship  of  God,  which  will,  for  ever, 
keep  us  hdrs  of  God,  and  joint  heirs  zoith  Christ. 

Again,  the  same  apostle  helps  us  to  another  sign 
"of  GUI'  new  life  hi  God.     Whosoever ,  saith  he,  is  born 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  .^9 

of  God  doth  not  commit  sln^  for  his  seed  remaineth  ;',i 
him,  and  he  cannot  sin,  because  he  is  .  ^       "    q 

horn  of  God,  ^*  * 

This  is  not  to  be  understood,  as  if  he  that  was 
-born  of  God  was  therefore  in  an  absolute  state  of 
perfection,  and  incapa})le  afterwards  of  falh'ng  into 
any  thing  that  w^as  sinful. 

It  only  means,  that  he  that  is  born  of  God  is  pos- 
sessed of  a  temper  and  principle  that  makes  him 
utterly  hate  and  labour  to  avoid  all  sin  ;  he  is  there- 
fore said  not  to  co-mmit  sin,  in  such  a  sense  as  a  man 
may  be  said  not  to  do  that,  which  it  is  his  constant 
care  and  principle  to  prevent  being  done. 

He  cannot  sin,  as  it  maj^  be  said  of  a  man  that 
has  no  principle  but  covetousness,  that  he  cannot 
do  things  that  are  expensive,  because  it  is  his  con- 
stant care  and  labor  to  be  sparing;  and  if  expense 
happen.it  is  contrary  to  liis  intention  :  it  is  his  pain 
and  trouble,  and  he  returns  to  saving  Avith  a  double 
diligenre. 

Thus  is  he  that  is  born  of  God  ;  puritj/  and  holi- 
ness is  his  only  aim,  and  he  is  more  incapable  of 
having  any  sinful  intentions,  than  the  miser  is  inca- 
pable of  generous  expense  ;  and  if  he  finds  himself 
in  any  sin,  it  is  his  greatest  pain  and  trouble,  and 
he  labours  after  holiness  with  a  double  zeal. 

This  it  is  to  be  born  of  God,  v/hen  we  have  a 
temper  and  mind  so  entirely  devoted  to  purity  and 
holiness,  that  it  may  be  said  of  us  in  a  just  sense, 
that  we  cannot  commit  sin.  When  holiness  is  such 
a  habit  in  our  minds,  so  directs  and  forms  our 
desi'^ns,  as  covetousness  and  ambition  direct  and 
govern  the  actions  of  such  men,  as  are  governed  by 
no  other  principles,  then  are  we  alive  in  God,  and 
living  members  of  the  mystical  body  of  his  Son 
Jesus  Christ. 

Th\s  is  our  true  standard  and  measure  by  which 
we  are  to  "udge  of  ourselves ;  we  are  not  true  Chris- 
tians unless  we  are  born  of  God,  and  v/e  are  not 


4p  A   PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

born  of  God  unless  it  can  be  said  of  us  in  this  sens^ 
that  we  cannot  commit  sin. 

When  by  an  inward  prmciple  of  holiness  we 
stand  so  disposed  to  all  degrees  of  virtue,  as  the 
ambitious  man  stands  disposed  to  all  steps  of  great- 
ness, when  we  hate  and  avoid  all  kinds  of  sins,  as 
the  covetous  man  hates  and  avoids  all  sorts  pf  loss 
and  expense,  then  are  we  such  sons  of  God  as  can- 
not commit  sin. 

We  must  therefore  examine  into  the  state  and 
temper  of  our  minds,  and  see  whether  we  be  thus 
changed  in  our  natures,  thus  born  again  to  a  new 
Bfe,  whether  we  be  so  spiritual  as  to  have  overcome 
the  world,  so  holy  as  that  we  cannot  commit  sin  ; 
since  it  is  the  undeniable  doctrine  of  Scripture,  that. 
this  state  of  mind,  this  new  birth,  is  as  necessary  to 
salvation  as  the  believing  in  Jesus  Christ. 

To  be  eminent  therefore  for  any  particular  virtue-, 
to  detest  and  avoid  several  kinds  of  sins,  is  just  no- 
thing at  all ;  its  excellency  (as  the  apostle  saith  of 
some  particular  virtues)  is  but  as  sounding  brassj 
and  a  tinkling  cymbal. 

But  when  the  temper  and  taste  of  our  soul  is  en- 
tirely changed,  when  we  are  renewed  in  the  spirit 
of  our  minds,  and  are  full  of  a  relish  and  desire  of 
all  godliness,  of  a  fear  and  abhorrence  of  all  evil, 
then,  as  St.  John  speaks,  may  zee  knojii  that  we  are 
of  the  truths  and  shall  assure  our  hearts  before  himj 
then  shall  we  knorv  that  he  abidelk  ^  ^  |  ...  -q 
in  us  by  the  Spirit  zvhich  he  hath  giv-  qa    ' 

en  us. 

We  have  already  seen  two  marks  of  those  that 
are  born  of  God,  the  one  is,  that  they  have  over- 
come the  world,  the  other,,  that  they  do  not  commit 
sin. 

To  these  1  shall  only  add  a  third,  which  is  given 
us  by  Christ  himself,  /  say  unto  you^  love  your  ene- 
mies^ bless  them  that  curse  you^  do  good  to  them   that 
.  hate  you^  and  pray  for  ilwn  zohich  dcsjiil/ fully  usp- 


L'POX    CHRISTIAN'    PERFECTION.  4H 

you.)  and   persecule  yon,  thai  you  may       ^r  ,  . 

be  the  children  of  your  Father  zohich  Is 
in  heaven. 

Well  maj^  a  Christian  be  said  to  be  a  new  crea- 
ture^ and  Christianity  an  entire  change  of  tcmpcrj 
since  such  a  disposition  as  this  is  made  so  neces- 
sary, that  without  it  we  cannot  be  the  cliildren  of 
our  Father  which  is  in  heaven  ;  and  if  we  are  not 
his  children,  neither  is  he  our  Father. 

It  is  not  therefore  enou2;h  that  we  love  our  friends, 
benefactors,  and  relations,  but  Ave  must  love  like 
God,  if  we  will  show  that  we  are  born  of  him.  We 
must,  like  liim,  have  an  universal  love  and  tender- 
ness for  all  mankind,  imitating  that  love,  which 
would  that  all  men  should  be  saved. 

God  is  love^  and  this  we  are  to  observe  as  the 
true  standard  of  ourselves,  that  he  who  dzeelleth  in 
God  dzvelleih  in  Icve  ;  and  consequently  he  wlip 
dwelleth  not  in  love  dwelleth  not  in  God. 

It  is  impossible,  therefore,  to  be  a  true  Christian, 
and  an  puemy  at  the  same  time. 

Mankind  has  no  enemy  but  the  devil,  and  them 
who  pariake  of  his  malicious  and  ill-natured  spirit. 

Thrre  is  perhaps  no  duty  of  religion  that  is  so 
con-r  'ry  to  flesh  and  blood  as  this,  but  as  difficult 
as  it  may  seem  to  a  worldij^  mind,  it  is  still  neces- 
sary, and  wi1|  easily  }w  performed  by  such  as  are 
in  Christ  new  creatures. 

For  tike  but  away  earthly  goods  and  evils,  and 
you  tak^  away  all  hatred  and  malice,  for  they  are 
the  oniy  causes  of  those  base  tempers.  He  there- 
fore that  ha'h  overcome  the  vorld,  hath  overcome  all 
th*^  occasions  of  ^nvv  and  ill  nature;  for  having  put 
himself  in  this  sinialion,  he  cnn  pity,  pray  for,  and 
fo^'srive  all  his  enemies,  who  w^ant  less  forgiveness 
from  him  than  he  pxpecfs  from  his  heavenly  Father. 

Let  us  here  awhile  contemplate  the  height  and 
depth  of  Christian  holiness,  and  that  god-like  spirit 
4* 


42  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

which  our  religion  requireth.  This  duty  of  univer* 
sal  love  and  benevolence,  even  to  our  bitterest 
enemies,  may  serve  to  convince  us,  that  to  be  Chris- 
tians we  must  be  born  again^  change  our  very  na- 
tures, and  have  no  governing  desire  of  our  souls, 
but  that  of  being  made  like  God. 

For  we  cannot  exercise  or  delight  in  this  duty, 
till  we  rejoice  and  delight  only  in  increasing  our 
likeness  to  God. 

We  may  therefore  from  this,  as  well  as  from 
what  has  been  before  observed,  be  infallibly  assured 
that  Christianity  does  not  consist  in  any  partial 
amendment  of  our  lives,  any  particular  moral  vir- 
tues, but  in  an  entire  change  of  our  natural  temper, 
a  life  wholly  devoted  to  God. 

To  proceed, 

This  same  doctrine  is  farther  taught  by  our  bles- 
j^ed  Saviour,  when  speaking  of  little  children,  he 
saith,  Suffer  them  to  come  wito  mc^  for  of  such  is  the 
kingdom  of  God.     And  again,    Whoso-     j    ,  ... 

ever  shall  not  receive  the  kirhgdoni  of  God  \c 

as  a  little  child,  shall   in  no  zcise  enter 
therein. 

If  we  are  not  resolved  to  deceive  ourselves,  to 
have  ej^cs  and  see  not,  ears  and  hear  not,  we  must 
perceive  that  these  words  imply  some  mighty 
t^hange  in  our  nature. 

For  what  can  make  us  more  contrary  to  ourselves 
than  to  lay  aside  lall  our  manly  wisdom,  our  natural 
judgments,  our  boasted  abilities,  and  become  in- 
fants in  nature  and  temper,  before  we  can  partake 
of  this  heavenly  state  ? 

We  reckon  it  change  enough,  from  babes  to  be 
men,  and  surely  it  must  signify  as  great  an  altera- 
tion to  be  reduced  from  men  to  a  state  of  infancy. 

One  peculiar  condition  of  infants  is  this,  that  they 
have  every  thing  to  learn,  they  arc  to  be  taught  by 
others  what  they  are  to  hope  and  fear;  and  wherein 
their  proper  happiness  consists. 


UPON   CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  43 

It  is  in  this  sense  that  we  are  chiefly  to  become 
as  infants,  to  be  as  though  we  had  every  thing  to 
learn,  and  suffer  ourselves  to  be  taught  what  we  are 
to  choose  and  what  to  avoid  ;  to  pretend  to  no  wis- 
dom of  our  own,  but  be  ready  to  pursue  that  hap- 
})iness  which  God  in  Christ  proposes  to  us,  and  to 
accept  it  with  such  simpHcity  of  mind,  as  children 
that  have  nothing  of  our  own  to  oppose  to  it. 

But  now  is  this  infant  temper,  thus  essential  to 
the  Christian  life  ?  Does  the  kingdom  of  God  con- 
sist only  of  such  as  are  so  affected  ?  Let  this  then 
be  added  as  another  undeniable  proof,  that  Chris- 
^tianity  requires  a  nezo  nature^  and  temper  of  mind  ; 
and  that  this  temper  is  such  as  having  renounced 
the  prejudices  of  life,  the  maxims  of  human  wis- 
dom, yields  itself  with  a  child-like  submission  and 
simplicity  to  be  entirely  governed  by  the  precepts 
and  doctrines  of  Christ. 

.  Craft  and  policy,  selfish  cunning,  proud  abilities, 
and  vain  endowments,  have  no  admittance  into  this 
holy  state  of  society  with  Christ  and  God. 

The  wisdom  of  this  world,  the  intrigues  of  life, 
the  designs  of  greatness  and  ambition,  lead  to  ano- 
ther kingdom,  and  he  that  would  follow  Christ 
must  empty  himself  of  this  vain  furniture,  and  put 
on  the  meek  ornaments  of  infant  and  undesigning 
simplicity. 

IVhere  is  the  urise  ?     Where  Is  ike  scribe  ?     Where 
is  the  disputer  of  this  7corhl  ?  saith  the     ^  p       *    on 
apostle,  hath  not  God  made  foolish  the 
imsdcm  of  the  world  ? 

If  therefore  we  will  partake  of  the  wisdom  of 
God  we  must  think  and  judge  of  this  world,  and  its 
most  boasted  gifts,  as  the  wisdom  of  God  judgeth 
of  them  ;  we  must  deem  them  foolishness,  and  with 
undivided  hearts  labour  after  one  wisdom,  one  per- 
fection, one  happiness,  in  being  entirely  devoted  to 
God. 

This  comparison  of  the  spirit  of  a  Christian  <o 


44  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

the  temper  of  children  may  also  serve  to  recom- 
mend to  us  a  certain  simplicity  of  manners,  which 
is  a  great  ornament  of  behaviour,  and  is  indeed 
always  the  effect  of  a  heart  entirely  devoted  to  God. 

For  as  the  tempers  of  men  are  made  designing 
and  deceitful,  by  their  having  many  and  secret  ends 
to  bring  about,  so  the  heart  that  is  entirely  devoted 
to  God,  is  at  unity  with  itself,  and  all  others  ;  it 
being  wholly  taken  up  with  one  great  design,  has 
no  little  successes  that  it  labours  after,  and  so  is 
naturally  open,  simple,  and  undesigning  in  all  the 
affairs  of  life. 

Althouo;h  what  has  been  already  observed  in  the 
foregoing  pages  might  be  thought  sufficient  to  show, 
that  Christianity  requires  a  new  nature,  a  life  en- 
tirely devoted  to  God  ;  yet  since  the  Scriptures  add 
other  evidences  of  the  same  truth,  I  must  quote  a 
passage  or  tvro  more  on  this  head. 

Ihe  holy  Spirit  of  God  is  not  satisfied  with  re- 
presenting that  change  which  Christianity  intro- 
duceth,  by  telling  us  that  it  is  a  new  birth,  a  being 
born  of  God,  and  the  like,  but  proceeds  to  convince 
us  of  the  same  truth  hy  another  way  of  speaking,  by 
representing  it  as  a  state  of  death. 

Thus  saith  the  apostle,  ye  are  deaef,     ^  -,    •••     „ 
and  your  life  is  hid  zrifh  Chnst  in  Go(L 

That  is,  you  Christians  are  dead  sis  to  this  world, 
and  the  life  which  you  now  live  is  not  to  be  reck- 
oned by  any  visible  or  worldly  goo 's,  but  is  hid  in 
Chris!,  is  a  spiritual  en'o^'ment,  a  life  of  faith,  and 
not  of  sis^ht ;  ye  are  members  of  that  mystical  body 
of  which  Chr'st  is  the  hond,  and  entered  into  a  king- 
dom which  is  not  of  this  world. 

And  in  this  state  of  death  are  we    ns  Christians 
to  contiiup  till  Chrift,  who  is  our  lifc^  shall  appear, 
and  then  shall  ive  also  appear  rcith  him        ^  i   ...    . 
in  shry. 

To  show  us  that  th^'s  death  begins  with  our 
Christian  state,  we  are  said  to  bf  buried  ^vith  him  in 


yi'ON    CHRlStlAN    PERFECTION*.  4!> 

hapilsm  ;  so  that  we  entered  into  this  state  of  death 

at  our  baptism,  when  we  entered  into  Christianity. 

Know  ye  not^  says  the  apostle,  that  so  many  of  us 

as  were  baptized  into  Jesus  Christy  were  baptized  into 

his  death  ?  therefore  we  are  buried  with       r,  •    . 

L-      h    h     r       •  4     1    4T,  Kom.  VI.  4. 

Mr/1,  by  baptism  into  death* 

Now  Christians  may  be  said  to  be  baptized  into 
rhe  death  of  Christ,  if  their  baptism  puts  them  into 
A  state  like  to  that  in  which  our  Saviour  was  at  his 
death.  The  apostle  shows  this  to  be  the  meaning 
of  it,  by  saying,  if  we  have  been  planted  together  in 
the  Hkeness  of  his  deaths  that  is,  if  our  baptism  has 
put  us  into  a  state  like  that  of  his  death. 

So  that  Christian  baptism  is  not  only  an  external 
rite,  by  which  we  are  entered  into  the  externa} 
society  of  Christ's  church,  but  is  a  solemn  conse- 
cration, which  presents  us  an  offering  to  God,  as 
Christ  was  offered  at  his  death. 

We  are  therefore  no  longer  alive  to  the  enjoy- 
liients  of  this  world,  but  as  Christ  was  then  nailed 
to  the  cross,  and  devoted  entirely  to  God,  that  he 
might  be  made  perfect  through  sufferin^s^  and  a^ 
cend  to  the  right  hand  of  God  ;  so  is  our  old  man 
to  be  crucified,  and  we  consecrated  to  God,  by  a 
conformity  to  the  death  of  Christ,  that  like  as  Christ 
zcas  raised  from  the  dead,  by  the  glory  of  the  Father^ 
even  so  we  also  should  walk  in  newness  of  Iife<,  and 
being  risen  with  Christ  should  seek  those  things  which 
(ire  above* 

This  is  the  true  undeniable  state  of  Christianity; 
baptism  does  not  make  us  effectually  Christians, 
unless  it  brings  us  into  a  state  of  death,  consecrates 
us  to  God,  and  begins  a  life  suitable  to  that  slate 
of  things  to  which  our  Saviour  is  risen  from  the 
dead.  This,  '^nd  no  other  than  this,  is  the  holiness 
and  spiritual  temper  of  the  Christian  life,  which 
implies  such  a  rf^sisinatlon  of  mind,  such  a  dedica- 
tion of  ourselves  to  God,  as  m.ny  resemble  the  death 
of  Christ.     And  on  the  other  hand,  such  a  ncwnc?,? 


46  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

of  life,  such  an  ascension  of  the  sou],  such  a  holy 
and  heavenly  behaviour,  as  may  show  that  we  are 
risen  with  Christ,  and  belong  to  that  glorious  state, 
where  he  now  sits  at  the  right  hand  of  God. 

It  is  in  this  sense,  that  the  holy  Jesus  saith  of 
his  disciples,  they  are  not  of  this  icorlcl,  even  as  I  am 
not  of  this  zcorld  ;  being  not  left  to  live  the  life  of 
the  world,  but  chosen  out  of  it  for  the  purposes  of 
his  kingdom,  that  they  might  copy  after  his  death, 
and  oblation  of  himself  to  God. 

And  this  is  the  condition  of  all  Christians  to  the 
consummation  of  all  things,  who  are  to  carry  on 
the  same  designs,  and  by  the  same  means  raise  out 
of  this  corrupted  state  a  number  of  fellow-heirs 
with  Christ  in  everlasting  glory.  The  Saviour  of 
the  wopid  has  purchased  mankind  with  his  blood, 
not  to  live  in  ease  and  pleasurable  enjoyments,  not 
to  spend  their  time  in  softness  and  luxury,  in  the 
gratifications  of  pride,  idleness,  and  vanity,  but  to 
drink  of  his  cup,  to  be  baptized  with  the  baptism 
that  he  was  baptized  with,  to  make  war  with  their 
corrupt  natures,  humble  themselves,  mortify  the 
desires  of  the  flesh,  and  like  him  be  made  perfect 
through  sufferings. 

St.  Paul  so  well  knew  this  to  be  the  design  and 
spirit  of  reHgion,  that  he  puts  his  title  to  the  bene- 
fits of  Christ's  resurrection  upon  it,  when  he  says, 

That  1  may  knozo  hirn^  and  the  pozoer  of  his  resur" 

rection^  and  the  fellozcsh'p  of  his  svf      pr  m    •••    ^^ 

/>•        ]•         *7  /•        7J.1'       i  nil.  111.  1  u« 

erm<i;s^  being  made  conjormabie  to  rus 

death. 

It  is  his  being  made  conformable  to  his  death, 
on  which  he  founds  his  hopes  of  sharing  in  the  re- 
surrection of  Christ.  If  Christians  think  that  sal- 
vation is  now  to  be  had  on  softer  terms,  and  that  a 
life  of  indulgence  and  sensual  gratifications  is  con- 
sistent with  the  terms  of  the  Gospel,  and  that  they 
need  not  now  be  made  conformable  to  his  death, 
they  are  miserably  blind,  and  as  much  mietate 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  47 

their  Saviour  as  the  worldly  Jews  who  expected  a 
temporal  Messiah  to  deliver  them. 

Our  redemption  is  a  redemption  by  sacrifice,  and 
none  arc  redeemed  but  ihey  who  conform  to  it.  ]f 
we  suffer  zvilh  him  7C€  shall  also  rcisan  7i:ith  him* 

We  must  then,  if  we  would  be  wise  unto  salva- 
tion, die  and  rise  again  like  Christ,  and  make  all 
the  actions  of  our  life  holj^,  by  oiTering  them  to 
God.  Whether  7ve  eat  or  drink,  or  7vhatsocvcr  zee  doy 
ice  must  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God, 

Since  therefore  he  that  is  called  to  Christianity 
is  thus  called  to  an  imitation  of  the  death  of  Christ, 
to  forbear  from  sin,  to  overcome  the  world,  to  be 
born  of  the  Spirit,  to  be  born  of  God,  these  surely 
will  be  allowed  to  be  sufficient  evidences,  that 
Christianity  requircth  an  entire  change  of  our  na- 
ture, a  life  perfectly  devoted  to  God. 

Now  if  this  is  Christian  piety,  it  may  serve  to 
instruct  two  sorts  of  people  ; 

First,  those  who  are  content  with  an  outward 
decency  and  regularity  of  life  :  I  do  not  mean  such 
as  are  hypocritical  in  their  virtues,  but  all  those 
who  are  content  with  an  outward  form  of  behaviour, 
without  that  inward  newness  of  heart  and  spirit 
which  the  Gospel  rcquireth. 

Charity,  chastity,  sobriety,  and  justice,  may  be 
practised  without  Christian  piety  ;  a  Jew,  a  hea- 
then, may  be  charitable  and  temperate  ;  but  t0 
make  these  virtues  become  parts  of  Christian  piety, 
they  must  proceed  from  a  heart  truly  turned  uiuo 
God,  that  is  full  of  an  infant  simplicity,  that  is  cru- 
cified with  Christ,  that  Is  born  again  of  the  Spirit, 
that  has  overcome  the  world.  Temperance  or  jus- 
tice, without  this  turn  of  heart,  may  be  the  tem- 
perance of  a  Jew  or  a  heathen,  but  it  is  not  Chris- 
tian temperance  till  it  proceed  from  a  true  Chris- 
tian spirit.  Could  we  do  and  suffer  all  that  Christ 
himself  did  or  suffered,  yet  if  it  was  not  all  done  in 
the  same  spirit  and  temper  of  Christ,  we  should  have 
none  of  his  merit. 


43  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

A  Cliristian  therefore  must  be  sober,  charitable, 
and  just,  upon  the  same  principles,  and  with  the 
same  spirit,  that  he  receives  the  holy  sacrament, 
for  ends  of  religion,  as  acts  of  obedience  to  God,  as 
means  of  purity  and  holiness,  and  as  so  many  in- 
stances of  a  heart  devoted  to  God. 

As  the  bare  eating  of  bread,  and  drinking  wine 
in  the  holy  sacrament,  is  of  no  use  to  us,  without 
those  religious  dispositions  which  constitute  the 
true  frame  of  a  pious  mind,  so  is  it  the  sam^e  in  all 
other  duties  ;  they  are  mere  outward  ceremonies, 
and  useless  actions,  unless  they  are  performed  in 
the  spirit  of  religion  :  charity  and  sobriety  are  of 
no  value,  till  they  are  so  many  instances  of  a  heart 
truly  devoted  to  God. 

A  Christian  therefore  is  to  be  sober,  not  only  so 
far  as  answers  the  ends  of  a  decent  and  orderly  life, 
but  in  such  a  manner  as  becomes  one  who  is  born 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  that  is  made  one  with  Christ, 
who  dwells  in  Christ  and  Christ  in  him.  He  must 
be  sober  in  such  a  measure  as  best  serves  the  ends 
of  religion,  and  practise  such  abstinence  as  may 
make  him  fittest  for  the  holiness,  purity,  and  per- 
fection of  the  Christian  life. 

He  must  be  charitable,  not  so  far  as  suits  with 
humanity  and  good  esteem  amongst  men,  but  in 
such  a  measure  as  is  according  to  the  doctrines  and 
spirit  of  religion. 

For  neither  charity  nor  temperance,  nor  any 
other  virtue,  are  parts  of  Christian  holiness,  till 
they  are  made  holy  and  religious,  by  such  a  piety 
of  heart  as  shows  (hat  we  live  wholly  unto  God. 

This  is  what  cannot  be  too  much  considered,  by 
a  great  many  people  whose  religion  has  made  no 
change  in  their  hearts,  but  only  consists  in  an  ex- 
ternal decency  of  life,  who  are  sober  without  the 
piety  of  sobriety,  who  pray  without  devotioii,  who 
give  alms  without  chari-'v,  and  are  Christians  with- 
out the  spirit  of  Christianity. 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  4d 

Let  them  remember  that  religion  is  to  alter  our 
nature,  that  Christian  piety  consists  in  a  change  of 
heart,  that  it  implies  a  new  turn  of  spirit,  a  spirit- 
ual death,  a  spiritual  life,  a  dying  to  the  world, 
and  a  living  wholly  unto  God. 

Secondly.  This  doctrine  may  serve  to  instruct 
those  who  have  lived  strangers  to  religion,  what 
they  are  to  do  to  become  true  Christians, 

Some  people  who  are  ashamed  of  the  folly  of 
their  lives,  and  begin  to  look  towards  religion, 
think  they  have  done  enough,  whe  i  ihey  either 
alter  the  outward  course  of  their  lives,  abate  some 
of  their  extravagancies,  Or  become  careful  of  some 
particular  virtue. 

Thus  a  man  whose  life  has  been  a  course  of 
folly,  thinks  he  has  made  a  sufficient  change  by 
becoming  temperate.  Another  imagines  he  has 
sufficiently  declared  for  religion,  by  not  neglecting 
the  public  worship  as  he  used  to  do.  A  lady  fan- 
cies that  she  lives  enough  to  God,  because  she  has 
left  off  plays  and  paint,  and  lives  more  at  home 
than  in  the  former  part  of  her  life. 

But  such  people  should  consider,  that  religion  is 
no  one  particular  virtue  ;  that  it  does  not  consist 
in  the  fewness  of  our  vices,  or  in  any  particular 
amendment  of  our  lives,  but  in  such  a  thorciigh 
change  of  heart,  as  makes  piety  and  holiness  thei 
measure  and  rule  of  all  our  tempers. 

It  is  a  miserable  error  to  be  content  with  our- 
selves, because  we  are  less  vain  or  covetous,  more 
sober  and  decent  in  our  behaviour  than  we  used  to 
be  ;  yet  this  is  the  state  of  many  people  who  think 
they  have  sufficiently  reformed  their  lives,  because 
they  are  in  some  degree,  different  from  what  they 
were.  They  think  it  enouirh  to  be  changed  from 
what  they  were,  without  considering  how  tliorough 
a  change  religion  requires. 

But  let  such  people  remember,  that  they  who 
Xhns  measure  themselves  by   themselves  are  not  mlsc* 

5 


\;  y 


50  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

Let  them  remember,  that  they  are  not  disciples  of' 
Christ,  till  they  have,  like  him,  offered  their  xchole 
body  and  soul  as  a  reasonable  and  lively  sacrifice 
unto  God  ;  that  they  are  not  members  of  Christ's 
mystical  body,  till  they  are  united  unto  him  by  a 
iiero  spirit  ;  that  they  have  not  entered  into  the 
kingdom  of  God,  till  they  have  entered  with  an 
infant  siinplidty  of  heart,  till  they  are  so  born  again 
as  not  to  commit  sin,  so  full  of  an  heavenly  spirit  as 
to  have  overcome  the  icorld. 

Nothing  lesii  than  this  ^reat  change  of  heart  and 
mijid  can  give  any  one  any  assurance,  that  he  is 
truly  turned  to  God.  There  is  but  this  one  term  of 
salvation,  he  that  is  in  Christ  is  a  new  creature. 
How  insignificant  all  other  attainments  are,  is  suffi- 
ciently shown  in  the  following  words  :  Many  zvill 
fay  to  me  in  that  day^  Lord^  Lord,  have  7ue  not  prO' 
phesied  in  thy  name  ?  And  in  thy  name  have  cast  out 
devils  ;  And  in  thy  name  have  done  many  wonderful 
ivorks  ?  And  then  icill  I  profess  unto  -m^^^  ,  •;  09 
ihem,  I  never  knew  you.  Depart  from 
me,  ye  that  work  iniquity. 

So  that  there  is  no  religion  that  will  stand  us  in    ,    t^ 
any  stead,  but  that  which  is  the  conversion  of  the  '  *  / 
heart  to  God  ;  when  all  our  tempers  are  tempers  of 
piety,  springing  from  a  soul  that  is  6or?i  again  of 
the  Spirit,  that  tends  with  one  full  bent  to  a  perfec- 
tion and  happiness  in  the  enjoyment  of  God. 

Let  us  therefore  look  carefully  to  ourselves,  and 
consider  what  manner  of  spirit  we  are  of;  let  us  not 
think  our  condition  safe,  because  we  are  of  this  or 
that  churcb  or  communion,  or  because  we  are*  strict 
observei's  of  the  external  offices  of  religion,  for 
these  are  marks  that  belong  to  more  than  belong 
to  Christ.  All  are  not  his,  that  prophesy,  or  even 
itinrk  miracles  in  his  name,  much  less  these,  who 
with  worldlv  minds  and  corrupt  hearts  are  only 
baptized  in  his  name. 

Ifrclisfion  has  raised  us  into  a  new  wjild,  ifit 


UPON    CHRISTIAN  PERFECTION.  51 

has  filled  us  with  new  ends  of  life,  if  it  lias  taken 
possession  of  our  hearts,  and  altered  the  whole  turn 
of  our  minds,  if  it  has  changed  all  our  ideas  of 
things,  given  us  a  new  set  of  hopes  and  fears,  and 
taught  us  to  live  by  the  realities  of  an  invisible 
world,  then  may  we  humbly  hope,  that  we  are  true 
followers  of  the  holy  Jesus,  and  such  as  may  rejoice 
in  the  day  of  Christy  that  7t>e  have  ncilher  run  in  -ja'yi-, 
nor  laboured  in  vain. 


CHAP.  III. 

Christianity   requircth  a  Renunciation  of  the  World\ 
and  all  worldly  Tempers, 

THE  Christian  religion  being  to  raise  a  nev.', 
spiritual,  and  as  yet  invisible  world,  and  to  place 
man  in  a  certain  order  amongst  thrones,  principali- 
ties, and  spiritual  beings,  is  at  entire  enmity  witU 
this  present  corrupt  state  of  flesh  and  blood. '^ 

It  ranks  the  present  world  along  with  the  flesk 
and  the  devil,  as  an  equal  enemy  to  those  glorious 
ends,  and  that  perfection  of  human  nature,  which 
our  redemption  proposes. 

It  pleased  the  wisdom  of  God  to  indulge  the  Jews 
in  worldly  hopes  and  fears. 

It  was  then  said.  Therefore  shall  ye  keep  all  the 
commandments^  rvhich  I  command  yon  this  day,  that 
ye  may  be  strong-^  and  ^o  in  and  possess  the  land,  luhi- 
ther  you  s^o  to  possess  it. 

The  Gospel  is  quite  of  another  nature,  and  is  a  call 
to  a  very  dilTerent  state,  it  lays  its  first  foundation 
in  the  renunciation  of  the  world,  as  a  state  of  false 
goods  and  enjoyments,  which  feed  the  vanity  and 
corruption  of  our  nature,  fill  our  hearts  with  foolish 
and  wicked  passions,  and  keep  us  separate  from 
God  the  only  happiness  of  all  *^'rits. 


i'3.  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

My  kingdom,  saith  our  blessed  Saviour,  is  not  of 
this  7vorld ;  by  which  we  may  be  assured  that  no 
worldlinpis  are  of  his  kingdom. 

We  have  a  farther  representation  of  the  contra^ 
piety  that  there  is  betwixt  this  kingdom  and  the 
concerns  of  this  world.  A  certain  man,  saith  our 
Lord,  made  a  great  shipper,  and  bade  mcmy,  and  sent 
his  servant  at  supper-time  to  say  to  them  that  were 
hidden^  come,  for  all  things  are  nozo  ready  ;  and  they 
all,  7oith  one  consent,  began  to  make  excuse.  The 
Jirstsaid,  I  have  bought  a  piece  of  ground,  and  I  must 
needs  go  and  see  it  :  another  said,  I  have  bought  five 
ijokc  of  oxen,  and  I  go  to  prove  them,  I  prmj  thee  have 
me  excused  ;  another  said,  I  hctve  married  a  wife^  and 
therefore  I  cannot  come. 

We  find  that  the  master  of  the  house  was  angry, 

and  said,  None  of  those  men  u-hich  were  t    ,        •      ,  /> 
r-jj       i  J]  4    i     r  Luke  XIV.  16. 

bidden  shall  taste  oj  my  supper. 

Our  Ssrio'jr,  a  iiltle  Lifter  wards,  applies  it  ail  in 
this  manner,  Whosoever  he  be  of  you  that  forsaketh 
not  cdl  that  he  hath,  he  cannot  be  my  disciple*  We  are 
cold,  that  when  the  chief  priests  and  pharistes  heard 
our  Saviour'' s  parables,  they  perceived  n.f  _  x.  •  .  r 
that  he  spake  of  tfiern. 

If  Christians,  hearing  the  above-recited  parable, 
are  not  pricked  in  their  hearts,  and  do  not  feel  that 
our  Saviour  speaks  of  them,  it  must  be  owned  that 
ihey  are  more  hardened  than  Jews,  and  more  insin- 
eere  than  pharisees. 

This  parable  teaches  us,  that  not  only  the  vices, 
the  wickedness  and  vanity  of  this  world,  but  even 
its  most  lawful  and  allowed  concerns,  render  men 
unable  to  enter,  and  unworthy  to  be  received  into 
the  true  state  of  Christian'ty. 

That  he  who  is  busied  in  an  honest  and  lawful 
calling,  may,  on  that  account,  he  as  well  reject ed 
by  ^od,  as  he  who  is  vainly  employed  in  foolish 
and  idle  pursuits. 

That  it  is  no  i^^  pardonable  to  be  less  aflected 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERPECTION'.  5S^ 

to  ihc  tilings  of  religion,  for  the  sake  of  anj  worldlj 
business,  than  for  the  indulgence  of  our  pride,  or 
any  other  passion  :  it  farther  teaches  us,  that  Chris- 
tianity is  a  calling  that  puts  an  end  to  all  other  cal- 
lings ;  that  we  are  no  longer  to  consider  it  as  our 
proper  state  or  employment  to  take  care  of  oxen, 
look  after  an  estate,  or  attend  the  most  plausible 
aifairs  of  life  ;  but  to  reckon  every  condition  equally 
trilling,  and  fit  to  be  neglected,  for  the  sake  of  the 
one  thing  needful. 

Men  of  serious  business  and  managcrricn^gcnc- 
rally  censure  those  v.'ho  trifle  away  their  time  in 
idle  and  impertinent  pleasures,  as  vain  and  foolish, 
and  unworthy  of  the  Christian  profession. 

But  they  do  not  consider  that  the  business  of  the 
world,  where  they  think  they  show  such  a  manly 
skill  and  address,  is  as  vain  as  vanity  itself;  they  do 
not  consider  that  the  cares  of  an  employment,  an 
attention  to  business,  if  it  has  got  -hold  of  the  heart, 
renders  men  as  vain  and  odious  in  the  sight  of  God 
as  any  other  gratilication. 

For  though  they  may  call  it  an  honest  care,  a 
creditable  industry,  or  by  any  other  plausible  name; 
yet  it  is  their  particular  gratification,  and  a  wisdom 
that  can  no  more  recommend  itself  to  the  eyes  of 
God  than  the  wisdom  of  an  epicure. 

For  it  shovrs  as  wrong  a  turn  of  mind,  as  fiiise  a 
judgment,  and  as  great  a  contempt  of  the  true 
goods,  to  neglect  any  deo;rees  of  piety  for  the  sake 
of  business,  as  for  any  of  the  most  trifling  pleasures 
of  life. 

The  wisdom  of  this  world  gives  an  importance, 
an  air  of  greatness  to  several  ways  of  life,  and  ridi- 
cules others  as  vain  and  contempuble,  which  dillcr 
only  in  their  kind  of  vanity  ;  but  the  wi«;dom  from 
above  condemns  all  labour  as  equally  fruitless,  but 
that  which  labour?  after  everlasting  life.  L^t  but 
religion  determine  th-:^  point,  and  .vhat  can  it  sig- 
nify, whether  a  man  forgets  God  ia  his  farm,  or  a 

5* 


64  A  PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

shop,  or  at  a  gaming-table  ?  For  the  world  i.'^  fall 
as  great  and  important  in  its  pleasures,  as  in  its 
cares  ;  there  is  no  more  wisdom  in  the  one  than  in 
the  other  ;  and  the  Christian  that  is  governed  by 
either,  and  made  less  affected  to  things  of  God  by 
them,  is  equally  odious  and  contemptible  in  the 
sight  of  God. 

And  though  we  distinguish  betwixt  cares  and 
pleasures,  yet  if  we  would  speak  exactly,  it  is  plea- 
sure alone  that  governs  and  moves  us  in  every  state 
of  life.  And  the  man  who,  in  the  business  of  the 
Avorld,  would  be  thought  to  pursue  it,  because  of 
its  use  and  importance,  is  as  much  governed  by  his 
temper  and  taste  for  pleasures  as  he  who  studies 
the  gratitication  of  his  palate,  or  takes  his  delight 
in  running  foxes  and  hares  out  of  breath. 

For  there  is  no  wisdom  or  reason  in  any  thing 
but  religion,  nor  is  any  way  of  life  less  vain  than 
another,  but  as  it  is  made  serviceable  to  piety,  and 
conspires  with  the  designs  of  religion,  to  raise  man- 
kind to  a  participation  and  enjoyment  of  the  divine 
nature. 

Therefore  docs  our  Saviour  equally  call  men 
from  the  cares  of  employments,  as  from  the  plea- 
sures of  their  senses  ;  because  they  are  equally 
wrong  turns  of  mind,  equally  nourish  the  corrup- 
tion of  our  nature,  and  are  equally  nothing,  when 
compared  with  that  high  state  of  glory,  which,  by 
his  sufferings  and  death,  he  has  merited  for  us. 

.Perhaps  Christians,  who  are  not  at  all  ashamed 
to  be  devoted  to  the  cares  and  business  of  the  world, 
cannot  better  perceive  the  weakness  and  folly  of 
their  designs,  than  by  comparing  them  with  such 
states  of  life  as  they  own  to  be  vain  and  foolish,  and 
contrary  to  the  temper  of  religion. 

Some  people  have  no  other  care  than  how  to  give 
iheir  palate  some  fresh  pleasure,  and  enlarore  the 
hap})iness  of  tasting.  T  desire  to  know  now  wherein 
consists  the  sin  or  baseness  of  this  care  1 


CPON   CnRISTIAN   rEnrECTICS'.  56 

Others  live  to  no  other  purpose  than  to  breed 
dogs,  and  attend  the  sports  of  the  field. 

Others  think  all  their  time  dull  and  heavy  which 
15  not  spent  in  the  pleasures  and  diversions  of  the 
town. 

Men  of  sober  business,  who  seem  to  act  the  grav^ 
part  of  life,  generally  condemn  these  ways  of  life. 

Now  I  desire  to  know  upon  what  account  they 
are  to  be  condemned  ?  For  produce  but  the  true 
reason  why  any  of  these  ways  of  life  are  vain  and 
sinful,  and  the  same  reason  will  conclude  with  the 
same  strength  against  every  state  of  life,  but  that 
which  is  entirely  devoted  to  God. 

Let  the  ambitious  man  but  show  the  folly  and 
irregularity  of  covetousness,  and  the  same  reasons 
will  show  the  folly  and  irregularity  of  ambition. 

Let  the  man  who  is  deep  in  worldly  business  but 
show  the  vanity  and  shame  of  a  life  that  is  devoted 
to  pleasures,  and  the  same  reasons  will  as  fully  set 
forth  the  vanity  and  shame  of  worldly  cares.  So 
that  whoever  can  condemn  sensuality,  ambition,  or 
any  way  of  life,  upon  the  principles  of  reason  and 
religion,  carries  his  own  condemnation  within  his 
own  breast,  and  is  that  very  person  which  he  despi- 
ses, unless  his  life  be  entirely  devoted  to  God. 

For  worldly  cares  are  no  more  holy  or  virtuous 
han  worldly  pleasures  :  f  hey  are  as  great  a  mistake 
in  life,  and  when  they  equally  divide  or  possess  the 
heart,  are  equally  vain  and  shameful  as  any  sen- 
sual gratifications. 

It  is  gr  mted  that  some  cares  are  made  necessary 
by  the  necessities  of  nature ;  and  the  same  also  may 
be  observed  of  some  pleasures  :  the  pleasures  of 
eating,  drinking,  and  rest,  are  equally  necessary  ; 
but  yet  if  reason  and  reliction  do  not  limit  these 
pleasures  by  the  necessities  of  nature,  we  fall  from 
rational  creatures  into  drones,  sots,  gluttons,  and 
epicures. 

In   like  manner  our  care   after   some    worldly 


5^  A    PTvACTlCAL    TKEATISCi 

thing.5  is  necessary  ;  b\U  if  this  care  is  not  boundecJ 
by  the  just  wants  of  nature  :  if  it  wanders  into 
unnecessary  pursuits,  and  iiils  the  mind  with  false 
desires  and  cravings  ;  if  it  wants  to  add  an  imagi- 
nary splendour  to  the  plain  demands  of  nature,  it  is- 
vani  and  irregular  ;  it  is  the  care  of  the  epicure,  a 
longing  for  sauces  and  ragouts,  and  corrupts  the 
soul  like  any  other  sensual  indulgence. 

For  this  reason  our  Lord  points  his  doctrines  at. 
the  most  common  and  allowed  employments  of  life, 
to  teach  us  that  they  may  employ  our  minds  ae 
falsely,  and  distract  us  as  far  from  our  true  good, 
as  any  trifles  and  vanity. 

He  calls  us  from  such  cares,  to  convince  us  that 
even  the  necessities  of  life  must  be  sought  with  a 
kind  of  indifference,  that  so  our  souls  may  be  truly 
sensible  of  greater  wants,  and  disposed  to  hunger 
and  thirst  after  enjoyments  that  will  make  us  happy 
for  ever. 

But  how  unlike  are  Christians  to  Christianity  ! 
It  commands  us  to  take  no  ihojishf^  sayins;,  ichaf  shalT 
7«e  eat.,  or  ivhat  shall  ive  drmk  ?  Yet  Christians  are 
restless  and  laborious  till  thev  can  eat  in  plate. 

It  commands  us  to  be  indinerent  about  raiment  ; 
but  Christians  are  full  of  care  and  concern  to  be 
clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen  ;  it  enjo'-ns  us  to 
take  no  ihoupcht  for  the  morrow,  yet  Christians 
think  they  have  lived  in  vain,  if  they  do  not  leave 
estates  at  their  death.  Yet  these  are  the  disciples 
of  that  T-ord,who  saith,  JFhosoever  he  he  of  you  that 
foi'sakcih  not  all  that  he  hath^  he  cannot  be  my  disci- 

It  must  not  be  said,  that  there  is  some  defect  in 
thpse  doctrines,  or  that  they  are  not  plainly  enou<]:h 
tau?^ht  in  Scripture,  because  the  lives  and  behaviour 
©f  Christians  is  so  contrary  to  them  ;  for  if  the 
spirit  of  the  world,  and  the  temper  of  Ch'*istirtns, 
might  be  alleged  against  the  doctrines  of  Scrip- 
ture, none  of  them  would  have  lasted  to  this  day. 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTlOiT.  57 

It  is  one  of  the  ten  commandments,  Thou  shall 
not  take  the  name  of  the  Lord  thy  God  in  tain  ;  our 
Saviour  has,  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  forbid 
swearing,  yet  where  is  more  swearing  than  amongst 
Christians,  and  among  such  Christians  as  would 
think  it  hard  to  be  reckoned  a  reproach  to  the 
Christian  name  ? 

The  Scripture  says  of  Christians,  that  they  are 
born  of  God,  and  have  overcome  the  ivorld ;  can  they 
be  reckoned  of  that  number  who  have  not  so  much 
as  overcome  this  flagrant  sin,  and  to  v/hich  they 
have  no  temptation  in  nature  ? 

Well  therefore  may  the  doctrines  of  humility, 
heavenly-mindedness,  and  contempt  of  the  world 
be  disregarded,  since  they  have  all  the  corruptions 
©f  flesh  and  blood,  all  the  innate  and  acquired 
ju-idc,  and  vanity  of  our  nature  to  conquer  before 
they  can  be  admitted. 

To  proceed. 

I  know  it  is  pretended  by  some,  that  these  doc- 
trines of  our  Saviour  concerning  forsakine:  all^  and 
the  like,  related  only  to  his  first  followers,  who 
could  be  his  disciples  upon  no  other  terms,  mid  who 
■were  to  suffer  with  him  for  the  propagation  of  the 
Gospel. 

It  is  readily  ov,nod.  thr^t  there  are  different  statos 
of  the  church,  and  thrjt  such  dilTcront  states  may 
call  Christians  to  some  particular  duties,  not  com- 
mon to  every  ncre. 

It  is  owned  also,  th'^t  this  wns  the  case  of  the 
iirst  Christians  ;  they  differed  from  us  in  many 
respects. 

They  wr.re  personally  called  to  follow  Christ  ; 
they  received  particular  commissions  from  his 
moutli  ;  they  w^ere  empowered  to  work  miracles, 
and  cnlled  to  a  certain  expectation  of  hatred  and 
sufferings  from  almost  all  the  woi'ld. 

These  are  particulars  in  which  the  state  of  the 
■fii'st  church  differed  from  the  preacnt. 


58  A       TV. ACTUAL    IPF/TT^E 

But  then  it  is  carefully  to  he  observed,  that  thi6' 
fliffcrence  in  the  state  of  the  church  is  a  difTerence 
in  the  external  state  of  the  church,  and  nor  in  the 
internal  imvard  state  of  Christians.  It  is  a  differ- 
ence that  relates  to  the  aflairs  ond  condition  of  the 
world,  and  not  to  the  personal  holiness  and  purity 
of  Christians. 

The  world  mqy  sometimes  favour  Christianity, 
at  other  times  it  may  oppose  it  with  persecution  : 
now  this  change  of  the  world  makes  two  different 
states  of  the  church,  but  without  making  any  differ- 
ence in  ihp  inward  personal  holiness  of  Christians, 
which  is  to  be  always  the  same,  whether  the  world 
smiles  or  frowns  upon  it. 

Whatever  measure,  therefore,  of  personal  holi- 
ness, or  inward  perfection,  was  required  of  the  first 
followers  of  Christ,  is  still  in  the  same  decree,  and 
for  the  same  reasons  required  of  all  Christians  to 
the  end  of  the  world. 

Humility,  meekness,  heavenly  affection,  devo- 
tion, charity,  and  a  contempt  of  the  world,  are  all 
internal  qualities  of  personal  holiness  ;  they  consti- 
tute that  spirit  and  temper  of  religion  which  is 
required  for  its  own  excellence,  and  is  therefore  of 
constant  and  eternal  obligation.  There  is  always 
the  same  fitness  and  reasonableness  in  them,  the 
same  perfection  in  practising  them,  and  the 
same  rewards  always  due  to  them. 

We  must,  therefore,  look  carefully  into  the  nature 
of  the  thinG:s,  which  we  find  were  required  of  the 
first  Christians  ;  if  we  find  that  they  were  called  to 
sufferings  from  other  people,  this  may  perhaps  not 
be  our  case  ;  but  if  we  see  they  are  called  to  suf- 
ferings from  themselves,  to  vdimtai'y  stlf-denials, 
and  renouncing  their  oami  ric^hts,  we  may  judge 
•amiss,  if  we  think  this  was  their  particular  duty  as 
the  first  disciples  of  Christ. 

--    For  it   is    undeniable  that    these    inst-ances    of 
ipaking  themselves  suilcrcrs  frgm  themselves,  of 


XTON    CHRISTIAN    PERIECTION.  ii'd 

Voluntary  sclf-dcnial,  and  renunciation  of  all  world- 
ly enjoyments,  are  as  truly  parts  of  personal  holi- 
ness and  devotion  to  God  as  any  instances  of 
charity,  humility,  and  love  to  God  that  can  possi- 
bly be  sup])0sed. 

And  it  will  be  ditlicult  to  show  why  all  Chris- 
tians are  now  obliged,  in  imitation  of  Christ,  to  be 
meek  and  lordy  in  hearty  if  they,  like  the  first  Chris- 
tians, are  not  obliged  to  these  instances  of  lowliness 
and  meekness  ;  or  if  they  are  obliged  still  to  imitate 
Christ,  how  can  they  be  said  to  do  it  if  they  excuse 
themselves  from  these  plain  and  required  ways  of 
showing  it. 

If,  therefore.  Christians  will  show  that  they  arc 
not  obliged  to  those  renunciations  of  the  world 
which  Christ  required  of  his  first  followers,  they 
must  show  that  such  renunciations,  such  voluntary 
self-denials,  were  not  instances  of  personal  holiness 
and  devotion,  did  not  enter  into  the  spirit  of  Chris- 
tianity, or  constitute  that  death  to  the  world,  that  new 
}>irth  in  Christ,  which  the  Gospel  recjuireth.  But 
this  is  as  absurd  to  imagine,  as  to  suppose  that 
praying  for  our  enemies  is  no  part  of  charity. 
,  Let  us,  therefore,  not  deceive  ourselves,  the 
Gospel  preaches  the  same  doctrines  to  us  that  our 
Saviour  taught  his  first  disciples,  and  though  it 
may  not  call  us  to  the  same  external  state  of  the 
church,  yet  it  infallibly  calls  us  to  the  same  inward 
state  of  holiness  and  newness  of  life. 

It  is  out  of  question  that  this  renunciation  of 
the  world  was  then  required,  because  of  the  excel- 
lency of  such  a  temper,  because  of  its  suitableness 
to  the  spirit  of  Chi-istianity,  because  of  its  being, 
in  some  degree,  like  to  the  temper  of  Christ,  because 
it  was  a  temper  that  became  such  as  were  born 
again  of  God,  and  were  made  heirs  of  eternal  glory, 
because  it  was  a  ri«:ht  instance  of  their  lo/ing  God 
loitli  all  (Jieir  hearty  and  irith  a-I  their  souL  and  rvilh 
all  their  strength^  and  li^ith  all  tktir  mind,  because 


GO  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

it  was  fi  proper  way  of  showing  their  disregarcl  (o 
the  vanity  of  earthly  comforts,  and  their  resolution 
to  attend  only  to  the  one  thing  needful. 

If,  therefore,  we  are  not  obliged  to  be  like  them 
in  these  respects,  if  we  may  be  less  holy  and  hea- 
venly in  our  tempers,  if  we  need  not  act  upon  such 
high  principles  of  devotion  to  God,  and  disregard 
of  earthly  goods  as  they  did,  we  must  preach  a  new 
Gospel  of  our  own  ;  we  must  say  that  we  need  not 
be  meek  and  lozdy  as  the  first  Christians  were,  and 
that  those  high  doctrines  of  charity,  of  blessing, 
and  doing  good  to  our  worst  enemies,  were  duties 
only  for  the  first  state  of  the  church. 

For  this  is  undeniable,  that  if  any  heights  of 
piety,  any  degrees  of  devotion  to  God,  of  heavenly 
aff'ection,  were  necessary,  for  the  first  Christians, 
which  are  not  so  now,  that  the  same  may  be  said 
of  every  other  virtue  and  grace  of  the  Christian 
life. 

All  our  Saviour's  divine  Sermon  upon  the  Mount 
may  as  well  be  confined  to  his  first  disciples  as 
these  doctrines,  and  it  is  as  sound  in  divinity,  as 
w^ell  founded  in  reason,  to  assert,  that  our  Saviour 
had  only  regard  to  his  first  disciples,  when  he  said, 
Ye  cannot  serve  God  and  mamnion^  as  when  he  saith, 
Whosoever  he  be  of  you  thai  forsaketh  not  all  that  he 
liath^  he  cannot  be  my  disciple* 

For  let  anj  one  think,  if  he  can  find  the  least 
shadow  of  a  reason,  wliy  Christians  should,  at 
first,  be  called  to  higher  degrees  of  heavenly  aiVec- 
tion,  devotion  to  God,  and  disregard  of  the  world, 
than  they  are  now. 

It  will  be  as  easy  to  show  that  they  were  obliged 
to  a  stronger  faith,  a  more  lively  hope,  than  we  are 
now. 

But  if  faith  and  hope  are  p;rares  of  too  excellent 
a  nature,  too  ess^nlial  to  the  life  and  spirit  of  a 
Clirisliau,  to  admit  of  any  abatements  in  any  age 


VPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  Cl 

6f  the  church,  I  should  think  that  heavcnlv  affec- 
tion,  devotion  to  God,  and  dying  to  the  world,  are 
tempers  equally  essential  to  the  spirit  of  religion, 
and  too  necessary  to  the  perfection  of  the  soul,  to 
fee  less  required  in  one  age  than  in  another. 

Besides  it  is  to  be  considered,  that  these  tempers 
are  the  natural  and  genuine  effects  of  faith  and 
hope  ;  so  that  if  they  are  changed  or  abated,  faith 
and  hope  must  have  so  far  suffered  abatements,  and 
failed  in  their  most  proper  and  excellent  effects.  . 

All  men  will  readily  grant  that  it  would  be  very 
absurd  to  suppose,  that  more  articles  of  faith 
should  have  been  necessary  to  be  believed  by  our 
Saviour's  first  follov/ers  than  by  Christians  of  after 
ages. 

Let  il  then  be  considered  why  this  would  be 
absurd,  and  it  will  plainly  appear  that  the  same 
reason  which  makes  it  absurd  to  suppose  that  any 
thing  which  was  once  necessary  to  be  believed 
should  ever  lose  that  necessity,  will  equally  show 
that  it  is  alike  absurd  to  suppose  that  any  thing 
that  was  once  necessary  to  be  done  should  ever  be 
lawful  to  be  left  undone. 

For  it  is  absurd  to  suppose  that  articles  of  faith 
should  not  have  always  the  same  relation  to  salva- 
tion. And  is  it  not  equally  absurd  to  suppose  the 
same  of  any  graces  or  virtues  of  the  soul  ?  That 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  should,  at  such  a  time,  be 
only  open  to  such  degrees  of  piety,  of  heavenly 
affection,  and  dying  to  the  world,  and  at  other  times 
make  no  demand  of  them. 

Again,  I  believe  all  men  will  readily  grant,  thai 
whenever  the  church  falls  into  such  a  state  of  per- 
s*cution  as  was  in  the  beginning,  that  we  are  then 
to  suffer  for  the  faith  as  the  first  Christians  did. 

Now  I  ask,  Why  we  ore  lo  do  as  they  did  when 
•we  fall  into  the  like  circumstances  ? 

Is  it  because  what  they  did  was  right  and  fit  to 
%^  done  ?    Is  it  because  their  example  is  safe  and 

C 


C2  '  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

agreeable  to  the  doctrines  of  Christ  ?  Is  it  because^ 
we  must  value  our  lives  at  no  higher  rate  than  they 
valued  theirs  ?  Is  it  because  suffering  for  the  faith 
is  always  that  same  excellent  temper,  and  always 
entitled  to  the  same  reward  ? 

If  these  are  the  reasons,  as  undoubtedly  they  are, 
why  we  must  suffer  as  they  did,  if  we  fall  into  sucli 
a  state  of  the  church  as  they  were  in  ;  do  not  all 
the  same  reasons  equally  prove  that  we  must  use 
the  world  as  they  did,  because  we  are  in  the  same 
v/orld  that  they  were  in  ? 

For  let  us  here  put  all  the  same  questions  in 
relation  to  their  self-denials  and  renunciations  of 
riches  ;  v/as  not  what  they  did  in  this  respect  right 
und  fit  to  be  done  ?  Is  not  their  example  safe  and 
agreeable  to  the  doctrines  of  Christ  ?  Are  we  to 
value  our  worldly  goods  more  than  they  valued 
iheirs  ?  Is  not  the  renouncing  earthly  enjoyments 
for  the  sake  of  Christ,  always  that  same  excellent 
temper,  and  always  entitled  to  the  same  reward  ? 

Thus  w^e  see  that  every  reason  for  suffering  as 
the  first  disciples  of  Christ  did,  when  we  fall  into 
the  same  state  of  persecution  that  they  were  in,  is 
as  strong  and  necessary  a  reason  for  our  contemn- 
ing and  forsaking  the  w^orld  as  they  did,  because 
we  are  still  in  the  same  world  that  they  were  in. 

If  it  can  be  shown  that  the  world  is  changed, 
that  its  enjoyments  have  not  that  contrariety  to  the 
spirit  of  Christianity  that  they  had  in  the  apostles' 
day,  there  may  be  some  grounds  for  us  Christians 
Xo  t^ke  other  methods  than  they  did.  But  if  the 
world  is  the  same  enemy  it  was  at  the  first,  if 
its  wisdom  is  still  foolishness,  its  friendship  still 
enmity  with  God,  we  are  as  m.uch  obliged  to  treat 
this  enemy  as  the  first  disciples  of  Christ  did,  as 
we  are  obliged  to  imitate  their  behaviour  towards 
any  other  enemies  and  persecutors  of  the  comxmon 
Christianity. 

And  it  would  be  very  absurd  to  suppose  hat  we 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  60 

were  to  follow  the  doctrines  of  Christ  in  renounc* 
ing  the  flesh  and  the  devil,  but  might  abate  of  their 
enmity  in  regard  to  the  world,  when  it  is  by  om* 
use  of  worldly  goods  that  both  the  flesh  and  the 
devil  gain  almost  all  their  power  over  us. 

Having  said  thus  much  to  show  that  the  Gospel 
belongs  to  us  in  all  its  doctrines  of  holiness  and 
piety,  I  shall  proceed  to  enquire  what  heavenly 
affection,  what  renunciation  of  the  world,  and  devo- 
tion to  God,  is  required  of  Christians  in  the  Ploly 
Scriptures. 

We  find  in  the  passage  already  quoted,  with 
several  others  to  the  like  purpose,  that  our  Saviour 
saith,  as  a  common  term  of  Christianity,  that  zoho- 
soever  he  be  of  you  that  forsaketh  not  all  that  he  hath, 
he  cannot  be  my  disciple, 

St.  Mark  tells  us.  There  came  one  running  and 
kneeled  to  him,  and  asked  him,  good  Master,  What 
shall  I  do  that  I  may  inherit  eternal  life  ?  And 
Jesus  said  unto  him^  Thou  knozvest  the  command- 
ments, do  not  commit  adultery^  do  p,, 
7iot  kill,  do  not  steal,  do  not  bear  ^^^P*  x* 
false  zoitness,  defraud  not^  honour  thy  father  and 
mother. 

And  he  anszoered  and  said  unto  him,  Master,  all 
these  have  I  observed  from  my  youth,  • 

Then  Jesus  beholding  him,  loved  him,  and  said 
unto  him,  One  thing  thou  lackest,  go  thy  zvay,  and  sell 
whatsoever  thou  hast,  and  give  to  the  poor,  and  thou 
jshalt  have  treasure  in  heaven,  and  come  take  up  the 
cross,  andfolloio  mc. 

And  he  zoas  sad  at  that  saying,  and  icent  aioay 
grieved,  for  he  had  great  possessions. 

In  St.  Mattheio  it  is  thus,  Jf  thou  zuilt  be  perfect, 
go  and  sell  that  thou  hast,  &.c. 

Some  have  imagined,  that  from  our  Saviour,s 
using  the  expression,  If  thou  ziult  be  perfect,  tha!. 
th's  was  only  a  condition  of  some  high  uncommon 
perfection,  which    Christians,  as  such,   were  not 


17. 


64  A  PRACTICAL  TREATISE 

obliged  to  aspire  after ;  but  the  weakness  of  thi^ 
imagination  will  soon  appear,  if  it  be  considered, 
that  the  young  man's  question  plainly  showed  what 
perfection  it  was  that  he  aimed  at  ;  he  only  asked 
what  he  should  do  that  he  might  inherit  eternal 
life  ;  and  it  was  in  answer  to  this  question  that  our 
Saviour  told  him,  that  though  he  had  kept  the  com- 
mandments, yet  one  thing  he  lacked. 

So  that  when  our  Saviour  saith,  if  thou  wilt  he. 
perfect^  it  is  the  same  thing  as  when  he  said,  if  thou 
wilt  not  be  lacking  in  one  thing,  that  is,  if  thou 
v/ilt  practice  all  that  duty  which  will  make  thee 
inherit  eternal  life,  thou  must  not  only  keep  the 
commandments  hut  sell  that  thou  hast,  and  give  to  ihn 
poor. 

It  plainly,  therefore  appears,  that  what  is  here 
commanded,  is  not  in  order  to  some  exalted  uncom- 
mon height  of  perfection,  but  as  a  condition  of  his 
being  a  Christian,  and  securing  an  inheritance  of 
eternal  life. 

This  same  thing  is  farther  proved  from  our 
Saviour's  general  remark  upon, it  ;  Hoio  hardly  shall 
(hey  that  have  niches  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  ? 

By  which  it  appears,  that  it  was  the  bare  enterr 
ing  into  the  state  of  Christianity,  and  not  any 
extraordinary  height  of  perfection,  that  was  the 
matter  in  question.  ^ 

This  remark,  and  the  other  following  one,  where 
our  Saviour  saith,  //  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go 
through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  than  for  a  ricli  man  to 
tnter  the  kingdom  of  God,  undeniably  show  us  thus 
jnuch,  that  what  is  here  required  of  this  young  man 
is  also  required  of  all  rich  men  in  all  ages  of  the 
church,  in  order  to  their  being  true  members  of  the 
kin,2;dom  of  God. 

For  how  could  this  be  said  of  rich  men,  that  they 
can  hardly,  and  with  more  difficulty,  enter  into  the 
kingdom  of  God,  if  they  were  not  obliged  to  th^ 
«amc  that  this  rich  man  was  obliged  to. 


UPON   CmilSTIAN   PERFECTION'.  6'3 

Tor  if  they  may  enjoy  their  estates,  and  yet  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  God,  the  difficulty  is  vanished, 
and  they  may  enter  with  ease,  though  this  young 
man  was  put  upon  much  harder  terms. 

If,  therefore,  we  will  but  use  common  sense  in 
understanding  these  words  of  our  Saviour,  we 
must  allow  that  they  relate  to  all  rich  men  ;  and 
that  the  same  renunciation  of  all  self-enjoyment  is 
required  of  them,  that  was  required  of  this  young 
man. 

His  disciples  plainly  understood  him  in  thi^ 
-Bense^  -by  their  sayings  Who  then  can  be  saved  ? 
And  it  appears  by  our  Saviour's  answer,  that  he  did 
not  thiptk  they  understood  him  amiss,  for  he  seems 
to  allow  their  remark  upon  the  difficulty  of  the 
thing,  and  only  answers,  That  with  God  all  things 
we  possible  ;  implying,  that  it  w^as  possible  for  the 
grace  of  God  to  work  this  great  change  in  the 
hearts  of  men. 

Those  who  will  still  be  fancying,  for  there  is 
nothing  but  fancy  to  support  it,  that  this  command 
related  only  to  this  young  man,  ought  to  observe, 
•that  this  young  man  was  very  virtuous  ;  that  he 
"was  so  eager  after  eternal  life,  as  to  run  to  our 
Saviour,  and  put  the  question  to  him  upon  his 
knees  ",  and  that  for  these  things  our  Saviour  loved 
him. 

Now  can  it  be  imagined,  that  our  Saviour  would 
make  salvation  more  difficult  to  one  who  was  thus 
disposed  than  to  others  ? 

That  he  would  impose  particularly  hard  terms 
upon  one  whose  virtues  had  already  gained  his 
love. 

And  such  hard  terms  as  for  their  difficulty  might 
justly  be  compared  to  a  camel  going  through  the 
eye  of  a  needle.  Would  he  make  him  lacking  m 
one  thing,  which  other  men  might  lack  in  all  ages, 
without  ^ny  hinderance  of  their  salvation  ?  Would 
he  send  him  away  sorrowful  on  the  account  of  sucK 


^  A    PRACTICAL  TREATISE 

terms,  as  are  no  longer  terms  to  the  Christian 
world. 

As  this  cannot  be  supposed,  we  must  allow 
what  our  Saviour  required  of  that  young  man, 
was  not  upon  any  particular  account,  or  to  show 
his  authority  of  demanding  what  he  pleased  ;  but 
that  he  required  this  of  the  young  man  for  the  sake 
of  the  excellency  of  the  duty,  because  it  was  a  tem- 
per necessary  for  Christianity,  and  always  to  h& 
required  of  all  Christians,  it  being  as  easy  to  con- 
ceive that  our  Saviour  should  "allow  of  less  restitu- 
tion and  repentance  in  some  sinners  than  in  others, 
as  that  he  should  make  more  denial  of  the  world, 
more  affections  for  heaven,  necessary  to  some  than 
to„  others, 

I  suppose  it  cannot  be  denied,  that  an  obedience 
to  this  doctrine  had  shown  an  excellent  temper, 
that  it  was  one  of  the  most  noble  virtues  of  the 
soul,  that  it  was  a  right  judgment  of  the  vanity  of 
earthly  riches,  that  it  was  a  right  judgment  of  the 
value  of  heavenly  treasures,  that  it  was  a  proper 
instance  of  true  devotion  to  God. 

But  if  this  was  a  temper  so  absolutely,  so  excel- 
lently right,  then  I  desire  to  know  why  it  has  not 
the  same  degree  of  excellency  still  ? 

Hath  heaven  on  earth  suffered  any  change  since 
that  time  ?  Is  the  world  become  now  more  worth 
our  notice,  or  heavenly  treasure  of  less  value,  than 
it  was  in  our  Saviour'^s  time  ?  Have  we  had  ano- 
ther Saviour  since,  that  has  compounded  things 
with  this  world,  and  helped  us  to  an  easier  way  to 
the  next  ? 

Farther,  it  ought  to  be  observed,  that  when  our 
Saviour  commanded  the  young  man  to  sell  all  and 
give  to  the  poor  ;  he  gives  this  reason  for  it,  and 
thou  shah  have  treasure  m  heaven. 

This  manifestly  extends  the  duty  to  all  rich  men, 
smce  the  reason  that  is  given  for  it,  either  equally 
obliges  all,  or  obliges  none,  unless  a  treaswe  in 


VPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION,  ^ 

heaven  can  be  said  to  be  a  valuable  consideration 
to  some  but  not  to  others. 

The  matter,  therefore,  evidently  comes  to  this  ; 
either  we  must  say,  that  our  Saviour  did  not  make 
a  reasonable  proposal  to  the  young  man,  that  what 
he  required  of  him,  was  not  sufficiently  excelr 
lent  in  itself,  and  advantageous  to  him  ;  or  we  must 
allow  that  the  same  proposal  is  as  reasonable  for 
us  to  accept  of  now,  as  it  was  in  the  first  ages  of 
the  church. 

We  must  observe  too,  that  if  all  the  reasons 
which  pressed  this  duty  upon  the  young  man 
equally  recommend  it  to  us  ;  if  we  neglect  it,  we 
are  equally  unreasonable  with  him  who  went  away 
sorrowful. 

Let  those  who  are  startled  at  this  doctrine,  and 
think  it  unnecessary  now,  deal  faithfully  with  their 
own  hearts,  and  ask  themselves,  whether  they 
should  not  have  had  the  same  dislike  of  it  had  they 
lived  in  our  Saviour''s  days  ?  or  whether  they  can 
find  any  one  reason  why  they  should  have  been  so 
spiritual  and  heavenly  then,  which  is  not  as  .good 
and  as  strong  a  reason  for  their  being  as  spiritual 
and  heavenly  now. 

Let  them  consider  whether  if  an  apostle  was  to 
rise  from  the  dead,  calling  all  rich  men  to  this  doc- 
trine, they  would  not  drive  their  coaches  from  such 
a  preacher  rather  than  be  saved  at  such  a  price. 

To  proceed  :  If  this  selling  all,  this  renunciation 
of  worldly  wealth,  was  not  required  for  the  excel- 
lency of  the  duty,  and  its  suitableness  to  the  spirit 
of  Christianity,  it  will  be  hard  to  show  a  reason 
why  such  voluntary  self-denial,  such  renunciation 
of  one's  own  enjoyments,  such  persecutions  of  one's 
self,  should  be  required  at  a  time  when  Christianity 
exposed  its  mcxYibers  to  such  uncommon  hatred  and 
persecution  from  other  people. 

Our  Saviour  allov.ed  lis  disciples  when  they 
should  fall  under  persecution,  to  flee  from  one  city 


6i  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

to  another  ;  though  they  were  to  be  as  harmless  as 
doves,  yet  he  commanded  them  to  be  as  wise  a-s 
serpents. 

If  therefore  the  enjoyment  of  riches  had  been  a 
thing  that  had  suited  with  his  religion,  was  not  a 
renunciation  of  all  worldly  wealth,  a  temper  neces- 
sary, and  never  to  be  dispensed  with  ;  one  WQuld 
suppose,  that  it  would  least  of  ail  have  been  imposed 
at  a  time  when  there  were  so  many  other  unavoid- 
able burdens  to  be  undergone. 

Since  therefore  this  forsaking  and  renouncing  all 
by  our  own  act  and  deed. ;  since  this  degree  of  self- 
denial  and  self-persecution  was  commanded  at  a 
time  when  all  the  world  were  enemies  to  Chris- 
tians ;  since  they  were  not  then  spared  or  indulged 
in  any  pleasurable  enjoyments  of  their  worldly 
wealth,  but  were  to  add  this  instance  of  suffering  to 
all  the  sufferings  from  their  enemies  ;  we  may  be 
sure  that  it  was  required  because  it  was  a  necessary 
duty-.;  because  it  was  a  proper  behaviour  of  such  as 
were  horn  of  God^  and  made  heirs  of  eternal  glory. 

If  this  be  true,  then  it  must  be  owned,  that  it  is 
still  the  same  necessary  duty,  and  is  now  as  well 
that  proper  behaviour  of  those  who  are  the  sons  of 
God,  as  ever  it  was. 

For  Christianity  is  just  that  same  spiritual 
heavenly  state  that  it  was  then  ;  the  dignity  of 
Christians  has  suffered  no  alteration  since  that 
time,  and  a  treasure  in  heaven,  an  eternal  happiness, 
are  still  the  same  great  and  important  things. 


CHAP.  IV. 

A  continuation  of  the  same  subject, 

ANY  one  that  is  at  all  acquainted  with  Scrip 
vure,  must  observe,  that  the  doctrine  of  the  fore- 
going   chapter  is   npt    barely  founded  on  those 


UPOJi     CHRISTIAN    PERFECTIOK.  ^ 

particular  texts  there  considered,  but  that  tlie  same 
spirit  of  renouncing  the  world,  is  the  mo,>t  common 
and  repeated  subject  of  our  Saviour\s  heavenly  in- 
structions. 

A  certam  man  said  unto  /t?m,  Lord^  1  loill  fcllozo  ■■ 

thee  7(}hithersoe.ver  thou  i£oest*     And     t     i,^    •,      f.^ 
T  J       i    I-       4'      /-        h     .     -Luke    ix»    57, 

Jesiis  said  unto  h'm,  tne  jo.ves  have  ^^ 

holes,  afid  the  birds  of  the  air  have 

nests,  but  the  Son  of  Man  hath  not  lohere  to  lay  his . 

head. 

Another  also  said,  Lord,  I  rvill  foUozv  thee,  hut  lei 
7ne  first  go  bid  them  farewell  that  are  at  home  at  my 
Jiouse. 

And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  no  man,  havinf^  put  hi>s 
hand  to  the  plough,  and  looking  back,  is  fit  for  the 
king^dom  of  God. 

These  passages  are  all  of  a  kind  with  Avhat  our 
Saviour  said  to  the  young  man ;  they  directly  teach 
that  same  renunciation  of  the  world,  as  the  first 
and  principal  temper,  the  very  soul  and  essence  of 
Christianity.  ,  .  ^ 

This  doctrine  is  pressed  and  urged  upon  us  by 
various  ways,  by  every  art  of  teaching,  that  it 
might  enter  into  the  heart  of  every  reader. 

The  kingdom  of  God,  saith  our  Saviour,  is  lihd 

unto  a  merchant-man  seeking;  goodly     •»,,  •••    . 

I        7        7       77iy»7  iviat.  xni.  4o. 

pearls,  7imo  when  he  had  jound  one 

pearl  of  great  price^   went  and  sold  all  that  he  hady 

and, bought  if. 

The  doctrine  of  this  parable  needs  no  interpreta- 
tion, it  is  plain  and  strong,  and  presses  home  the 
advice  that  our  Saviour  gave  to  the  rich  young  man. 

When  it  says,  that  the  kingdom  of  God  is  n  pearl 
of  great  price,  I  suppo?.e  it  means,  that  a  great  deal, 
^s  to  be  given  for  it  ;  and  when  it  says,  that  the 
merchant  went  and  sold  all  thnt  he  had  and  boudit 
It,.  I  suppose  this  is  to  teach  us,  that  it  cannot  be 
bou2^ht  at  any  less  price. 

The  n;iodcrn  Jews  vrould  be  upon  much  easier 


70  .A   PRACTICAL   TREATISE 

terms  than  those  who  lived  in  our  Saviour's  tlays^ 
if  we  can  now  tell  them  thai  the  kingdom  of  God 
is  no  longer  like  one  pearl  of  crreat  price^  and  that 
they  need  not  sell  all  that  they  have  and  bu.?  it^ 
but  may  .0:0  on  seeking  pearls  as  they  used  to  do, 
and  yet  be  good  members  of  the  kingdom  of  God. 

Now  if  we  may  not  preach  such  a  new  Gospel  as 
this  to  the  present  Jews^  I  do  not  know  how  we  can 
preach  it  to  Christians. 

This  parable  does  not  suppose,  that  the  merchant 
went  to  trading  again,  after  he  had  sold  a//,  and 
bought  this  pearl  of  great  price.  He  was  content 
with  that,  and  did  not  want  any  other  riches. 

If  the  kingdom  of  God  is  not  riches  sufficient 
for  us,  but  we  must  add  another  greatness,  and 
another  wealth  to  it,  we  fall  under  the  condemna- 
tion of  this  parable. 

To  proceed  :  The  peaceful,  pleasurable  enjoy- 
ment of  riches,  is  a  state  of  life  every  where  con- 
demned by  our  blessed  Saviour. 

Woe  unto  you  that  are  full,  for  ve      y    i      ,  •    o  e 
t  77 1  in   1 7     "t       Luke  VI.  25. 

shall  hunger  ;  zcoe  untoyou  that  laugh 

noiv^for  ye  shall  rveep  and  mourn. 

If  we  can  think,  that  for  all  this,  the  joys  of 
prosperity,  and  the  gay  pleasures  of  plent3%are  the 
allowed  enjoyments  of  Christians,  we  must  have 
done  wondering  at  the  blindness  and  hardness  of 
the  Jerr^'  hearts. 

Woe  unto  you  that  are  rich^  for  ye  have  received 
your  consolation  !  It  is  not  said,  woe  unto  you  that 
are  rich,  for  ye  have  enriched  yourselves  by  evil 
arts  and  unlawful  means,  but  it  is  the  bare  enjoy- 
ment^ the  consolation  that  is  taken  in  riches,  to 
which  this  woe  is  threatened. 

This  same  doctrine  is  pressed  upon  us  by  a  re- 
markable parable,  so  plain  and  lively,  that  one 
would  think  that  every  Christian  that  has  heard  it, 
should  be  afraid  of  every  thing  that  looked  like 
&elf-indulgence  or  expense  in  his  own  pleasures  and 
pride. 


UPON  e:^JIlISTlJ^N  PERrECTi©^^  f\ 

There  xcas  a  certain  rkh  f/ian,  7chich  was  clothed 
ni  purple  and  fine  linen^  and  fired  s\miptn<yusly  every 
day.  ' 

And  there  rvas  a  certain  poor  hcgg:ar^  nrtmcd  La^ 
zarus^  7oh{ch  zoas  laid  at  his  gate  full  of  sora?^  and 
desiring  to  be  fed  rcith  the  crvrahs  which  fell  from 
the  rich  man''s  table  :  moreover  the  doE[s  came  and 
licked  his  sores. 

It  came  to  pass^  that  the  beggar  died^  and  was  car- 
ried by  the  angels  into  Ahrahanvs  bosom.     The  rich 

man  also  died^  and  7cas  buried,  and   in       x    i 
1   ],  1      TJ-.  -L-  t  •        •     V  Luke  XVI. 

heil  he   hjt  up    his  eyes^  being   in   tor- 
meats^  and  sceth  Abraham  afar  off^  and  Lazarus  in 
his  bosom* 

This  parable  teaches  neither  more  nor  less  thaft 
what  our  Saviour  taught,  when  he  commanded  the 
young  man  to  sell  all  that  he  had.  For  it  is  the 
bare  pleasurable  enjoyment,  the  living  in  the  usual 
delights  of  a  great  fortune,  that  the  parable  con- 
demneth.  Here  is  no  injustice,  no  villanies  or  ex- 
tortions laid  to  his  charge,  it  is  only  a  life  of  splen- 
dor and  indulgence,  that  leaves  him  in  hell. 

This  we  are  farther  taught  by  Ahraham''s  answer 
to  him,  Son^  remember  that  thou  in  thy  life-time 
receivedst  thy  good  things  :  this  is  alleged  as  the  sole 
reason  of  his  being  in  torments. 

It  is  to  be  observed  that  nothing  is  mentioned  of 
Lazarus  but  his  low  and  a^icted  state,  and  then  it 
is  he  is  comforted,  and  thou  art  tormented, 

•Ca*n  any  thing  more  plainly  show  us  the  Impos- 
sibility of  enjoying  mammon  while  we  live,  nnd 
Ood  when  we  die  ?  A  rich  man  enjoying  the  plea- 
sures of  riches,  is  for  that  reason  found  in  torments  ; 
ti  beggar,  patiently  bearing  want,  is  for  that  rensoH 
made  the  care  of  angels,  and  conducted  to  Abraham^s 
bosom. 

Does  not  this  manifestly  trach  us  that  same  re- 
nunciation of  worldly  enjoyments,  as  if  we  had 
been  expressly  reouired  to  part  with  all  that  \fc 
have  ? 


72  A    PRACTICAL   TREATISE 

For,  if  a  life  of  splendor,  and  pleasure,  and  sen- 
sual gratifications,  is  the  portion  of  those  who  choose 
10  enjoy  it;  if  it  exposes  us  to  so  much  7ooe  and 
wrath  hereafter,  well  might  our  blessed  Saviour  tell 
.the  rich  man,  that  he  lacked  one  things  that  he  was 
10  sell  all  that  he  had,  and  give  to  the  poor. 

If  therefore  this  parable  contains  the  doctrine 
that  it  first  taught,  if  time  has  not  worn  away  its 
meaning,  it  contains  a  doctrine  that  concerns  all 
rich  men,  it  speaks  as  home  to  them,  and  calls  as 
loudly  for  a  renunciation  of  all  worldly  indulgen' 
cies,  as  our  Saviour  did  to  the  rich  man. 

So  that  there  is  no  advantage  got  by  considering 
our  Saviour's  command  as  a  particular  charge,  and 
given  to  a  particular  young  man,  since  it  appears 
by  other  express  passages  and  parables,  that  the 
saine  is  required  of  all  other  rich  men,  as  they  ex- 
pect any  other  consolation  than  what  is  to  be  found 
in  riches. 

If  we  will  here  also  appropriate  this  parable  to 
this  particular  rich  man,  we  shall  judge  as  reason- 
ably, as  if  we  should  maintain,  that  the  hell  in 
which  he  was  tormented,  was  made  only  for  him, 
and  is  a  state  which  no  one  else  has  any  occasion 
to  fear. 

We. must  therefore,  unless  we  will  set  aside  the 

•Gospel,  and  think  ourselves  not  concerned  in  its 

doctrines,  take  this   as  an  undeniable  truth,   that 

Christianity  is  still  that  some  opposite  state  to  the 

.world  that  it  was  in   our  Saviours  days,  that  he 

3peaks  to  us  the  same  language  that  he  spoke  to  thf; 

young  man  in  the  Gospel,  that  if  we  will  not  hear 

;  liis  voice,  but  indulge  ourselves  in  the  proud,  seiv 

sual  delights  of  ncnes  and  grandeur,  our  fate   is 

taught  us  in  the  rich  man  in   torments,  and  to  us 

belongs    that   dreadful   threatening,  Hoe  unto  you 

,  that  are  rich^  for  y on  have  recened your  consclaficn* 

I.  know  it  ,b.as  been  said  by  some,  that  all  that  wt 
are  taught  by  the  ■command  given  to  the  young 


«PON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  73 

4 

man  to  sell  all,  is  this,  that  whenever  wc  cannot 
keep  our  possessions  without  violating  some  cssen- 
ual  duty  of  a  Christian,  that  then,  and  not  till  then, 
need  we  think  that  we  are  called  upon  by  Christ 
to  quit  all  and  follow  him. 

I  have,  in  answer  to  this,  already  shown,  that  the 
thing  required  of  this  young  man,  was  no  particular 
duty,  but  that  our  Saviour  pressed  it  upon  all,  and 
by  a  reason  which  made  it  equally  conclusive  for 
all  people,  namely,  a  treasure  in  heaven, 

I  have  shown,  that  the  same  doctrine  is  taught  in 
■general,  by  comparing  the  kingdom  of  God  to  one 
pearl  of  great  price,  which  the  merchant  could  buy 
at  no  less  price,  than  by  selling  all  that  he  had ;  by 
the  parable  of  the  ricli  man  in  torments,  on  the  ac- 
count of  his  living  in  the  state  and  pleasures  of  a 
fortune,  and  lastly,  by  a  general  woe  that  is  threat- 
ened to  all  that  are  rich,  as  having  received  their 
consolation  ;  so  that  this  seems  a  full  answer  to 
ihis  interpretation. 

But  I  shall  however  consider  it  farther. 

Now  if  this  be  all  that  is  taught  us  as  Christians, 
by  the  case  of  the  young  man  in  the  Gospel,  that 
we  are  to  part  with  our  enjoyments  and  posses- 
sions, when  we  cannot  keep  them  without  renoun- 
cing some  great  truth  of  our  religion,  and  that  till 
such  a  time  happens,  wc  may  peacefully  and  plea- 
surably  enjoy  the  delights  of  state  and  plenty. 

If  this  be  the  case,  I  ask  how  a  good  Christian  is 
to  be  assured,  that  this  is  a  safe  and  just  interpreta- 
tion ?  How  shall  he  be  satisfied,  that  there  is  no 
danger  in  following  it  ? 

It  is  plainly  an  interpretation  of  our  own  making, 
it  is  not  the  open  expressed  sense  of  the  words  ;  it  is 
an  addition  of  something  to  them,  for  which  we  have 
no  authority  from  the  passage  itself.  So  that  it  may 
well  be  asked,  how  we  can  be  sure  that  such  an 
Interpretation  may  be  safely  complied  with  ? 

The  text  saith,  Sell  all  that  thou  hast  -,  this  inter- 


74  A  PRACTICAL   TREATISE 

pretation  saitb,  Ye  need  not  sell  yet,  nay,  that  you 
need  not  sell  at  all ;  but  that  you  may  go  on  in  the 
pleasurable  enjoyment  of  your  several  estates,  till 
such  times  as  you  cannot  keep  them  without  deny- 
ing the  faith. 

So  that  the  interpretation  seems  to  have  nothing 
(o  do  with  the  text,  and  only  teaches  a  doctrine, 
that  might  as  well  be  asserted  without  this  text,  as 
with  it. 

I  ask,  therefore,  for  what  reason  we  allow  this 
passage  to  teach  us  no  more  than  this  ?  Is  there 
any  other  part  of  Scripture  that  requires  us  to  make 
this  interpretation  ?  Does  it  better  suit  with  the 
spirit  and  temper  of  the  Christian  religion  ?  Is  it 
more  agreeable  to  its  heavenly  designs,  its  contempt 
of  the  world,  than  to  take  them  in  their  apparent 
sense  ? 

If  this  were  true,  then  the  first  followers  of  Christ, 
who  observed  this  doctrine  in  its  literal  sense,  and 
renounced  all,  acted  less  suitably  to  the  spirit  of 
Christianity,  than  those  who  now  enjoy  their 
estates. 

This  absurdity  is  enough  to  expose  any  pretended 
necessity  of  this  interpretation  ;  which  absurdity 
must  be  granted,  if  we  say,  that  this  new  interpreta- 
tion is  more  suitable  to  the  spirit  of  Christianity, 
than  to  take  the  words  as  still  obliging  in  their  first 
sense. 

But  to  cut  off  all  pretence  of  any  necessity  from 
any  other  part  of  Scripture,  I  have  made  it  plainly 
appear,  that  the  same  doctrine  is  certainly  taught 
by  many  other  express  passages  of  Scripture. 

This  interpretation  therefore  is  as  contrary  to 
many  other  parts  of  Scripture,  as  to  this  text ;  it  is 
contrary  to  the  spirit  of  Christianity,  and  is  only 
brought  in  to  soften  the  rigours  of  religion,  that 
people  may,  with  (juiet  consciences,  enjoy  the  plea- 
sures of  plenty,  and  those  who  want  it,  spend  their 
tieie  in  the  ways  and  means  of  acquiring  it. 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  75 

If  therefore  there  be  not  an  entire  change  in  the 
way  to  heaven ;  if  the  once  straight  gate  be  not  now 
a  wide  and  open  passage  to  all  full,  fat,  and  stately 
Christians  ;  if  there  is  still  any  meaning  in  these 
words,  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit^  for  theirs  is  the 
kingdom  of  God  ;  the  sober  Christian  may  as  well 
doubt  of  this  allowance  of  enjoying  the  pleasures 
and  plenty  of  his  estate,  till  persecution  for  the  faith 
drives  him  out  of  it,  as  if  he  was  told,  that  he  need 
not  resist  the  devil,  till  such  time  as  he  tempted 
hi  in  to  deny  the  faith,  or  give  up  some  truth  of  his 
religion. 

When  our  Saviour  gave  this  command  to  the 
young  man,  and  afterwards  observed  upon  his  re- 
fusal, that  it  was  easier  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the 
eye  of  a  needle,  than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  God,  the  apostles  took  that  com- 
mand to  signify  the  common  conditions  of  entering 
into  Christianity,  and  immediately  declared  that 
they  had  left  all  and  followed  him. 

And  our  Saviour  answered  them  in  such  a  manner, 
as  showed,  that  the  doctrine  then  delivered,  relat-ed 
to  all  mankind  in  the  same  sense,  and  had  nothing 
particular  in  it  that  related  to  one  man,  or  one  age 
of  the  church  more  than  another. 

Verihj  I  say  unto  yon^  there  is  no  man   that  hath 
left  his  house,  or  brethren,  or  sisters,     -iir     , 
orfalhcr,  or  mother,  or  loifi,  or  chil-         '       x.     j. 
dren^  or  lands,  for  my  sake  and  the  GospePs,  hut  he 
£hall  have  an  hundredfold  now  in   this  present  time, 
and  in  the  tcorld  to  come  eternal  life* 

Let  it  now  be  considered,  that  supposing  it  was 
barely  lawful  to  enjoy  our  estates  ;  and,  as  the  world 
says,  live  up  to  them  ;  is  this  a  state  of  any  merit  ? 
Is  there  any  reward  annexed  to  it  ?  If  it  is  not- our 
sin,  it  is  at  best  a  losing  our  time,  and  as  unreward- 
able  as  sleeping. 

But  on  the  other  side  we  are  infallibly  assured, 
that  if  we  come  up  to  the  doctrine  of  the  text,  if  we 


1&  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

part  with  our  worldly  enjoyments  and  gratificatfous 
for  the  sake  of  Christ,  that  in  this  life  we  shall 
receive  an  hundred-fold,  and  in  the  world  to  come 
eternal  life. 

Now,  if  such  persons  as  these  are  to  be  thus  bles»- 
3ed  in  this  life,  and  also  so  rewarded  in  the  next  ; 
it  is  certain  that  they,  vvho  are  not  such  persons,  will 
jiot  be  so  doubly  blessed  both  in  this  life  and  that 
which  is  to  come. 

But  now  what  an  interpretation  must  that  be, 
which  leads  men  from  being  an  hundred  times  as 
happy  as  they  might  be  in  this  life,  and  from  such 
a  height  of  reward  in  the  next  ? 

Is  no't  this  enough  to  show  us,  that  the  wisdom 
of  this  interpretation  is  not  a  wisdom  from  above, 
that  it  savoureth  not  the  things  that  be  of  God  ? 

For  who  can  be  so  wise  unto  eternal  life,  who 
can  make  so  much  of  his  plenty,  as  by  thus  parting 
with  it? 

Who,  that  was  governed  by  a  wisdom  from  above 
would  seek  for  an  evasion,  where  the  open  sense  is 
not  only  safe,  but  entitled  to  so  vast  a  recompenscj 
both  now  and  hereafter  ? 

It  is  to  me  no  small  argument,  that  our  Saviour 

meant  no  such  allowance,  as  this  interpretation  has 

found  out  ;  because  it  is  so  contrary  to  the  perfect- 

.  tion  of  the  soul,  and  is  so  disadvantageous  to  those 

that  follow  it. 

Our  blessed  Saviour  and  his  apostles,  both  in 
doctrine  and  practice,  are  on  the  side  of  renouncing 
the  enjoyments  of  riches,  and  who  is  he  that  dare 
j^reach  up  a  worldly  peace  and  indulgence,  without 
<»ither  text  or  precedent  from  Scripture,  and  such  a 
peace  as  leads  men  from  such  high  rewards,  both 
in  this  life,  and  that  which  is  to  come  ? 

When  our  Saviour  told  Peter  of  his  suffcrinccs, 
Peter  took  him  cmtl  began  to  relnike  him.  say'ng^  Be 
it  far  from  thce^i  Lord^  this  shall  not  he  unto  thee. 
But  Jmis  turned^  and  said  to  Pclcr^  get   thee  hehind 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  /  / 

'me  Satan,  thou  art  an  offence  unto  me,  for  thou  savour- 
est  not  the  things  that  be  of  God,  but  those  that  be  of 
men. 

But  after  all,  this  enjoyment  of  worldly  riches 
which  this  interpretation  pleads  for,  cannot  be 
shown  to  be  barely  lawful ;  this,  I  say,  cannot  be 
shown,  without  showing  at  the  same  time,  that  this 
passage,  It  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the 
eye  of  a  needle,  than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  tha 
kingdom  of  God,  is  so  old  as  to  be  of  no  signifi- 
cancy  now  ;  for  if  the  difliculty  still  continues,  the 
rich  man  must  have  as  much  to  part  with  now  as 
he  had  then. 

The  same  must  be  said  of  all  those  other  pas- 
sages above-mentioned,  concerning  the  kingdom 
being  compared  to  one  great  pearl,  the  case  of  the 
rich  man  in  torments,  and  the  general  icoe  that  is 
denounced  against  such  as  are  rich,  as  having 
received  their  consolation  ;  all  these,  with  a  great 
variety  of  other  texts,  must  have  quite  lost  theii- 
first  natural  meaning,  if  this  interpretation  be 
admitted  as  barely  lawful. 

So  that  it  is  an  interpretation  that  runs  away 
from  the  plain  open  sense  of  the  words,  and  leads 
from  those  great  rewards  that  belong  to  it  ;  it  is  an 
interpretation  made  without  any  necessity,  not  sup- 
ported by  any  doctrine  or  practice  of  Scripture, 
contrstry  to  the  practices  of  the  first  Christians, 
contrary  to  the  heavenly  spirit  of  our  relis^ion,  and 
so  contrary  to  various  plain  passages  of  Scripture, 
t^at  they  must  have  lost  their  true  meaning  if  thiis 
interpretation  be  admitted. 

Lastly,  If  all  that  can  be  concluded  from  this 
command  of  our  Saviour  is  only  this,  that  we  arc 
obliged  to  p-art  with  our  estates  when  we  cannot 
keep  them,  without  selling  the  truth  ;  if  srU  all 
thou  hast,  and  give  to  the  poor^  and  thou  sltalt  have 
treasure  in  heaven  on'y  means,  when  applied  to  us, 
thou  maye^t  keep  and  enjoy  thy  estate,  till  some  zcicked 

.7* 


78  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISC 

terms  of  keeping  it  are  imposed  upon  thee  ;  this  is  n® 
higher  a  perfection,  no  greater  degree  of  heavenly- 
mindedness,  or  disregard  to  the  world,  than  a  Jcw 
or  honest  heathen  would  maintain. 

For  who  does  not  know  that  it  is  better  to  be 
just  and  faithful,  than  to  be  rich  ;  and  that  a  man 
is  rather  to  part  with  his  estate  than  to  keep  it  at 
the  expense  of  his  virtue  and  integrity  ?  this  is 
only  the  virtue  of  choosing  rather  to  be  poor  than 
a  thief. 

Bat  if  Christians  can  think  that  this  is  the  highest 
renunciation  of  the  w^orld,  the  highest  degree  of 
heavenly  affection  to  wdiich  they  are  called  ;  if  they 
can  think  that  this  is  all  that  is  meant  by  their 
being  crucified  and  dead  to  the  world,  by  their 
being  in  Christ  new  creatures^  by  their  being  horn 
ofGod^  and  having  overcome  the  zvorld^  they  may  be 
justly  said  to  treat  the  Scriptures  as  the  Jews 
treated  our  Saviour,  when  they  said,  V/e  zoill  not 
have  this  man  to  reign  over  us, 

I  have,  I  think,  sufficiently  shown  that  our 
Saviour  required  an  entire  renunciation  of  the 
world,  a  forsaking  all  its  enjoyments,  in  order  to  be 
his  true  disciples  ;  and  that  the  same  is  as  certainly 
required  of  us,  as  he  is  the  same  Christ,  and  w^e 
heirs  of  the  same  glory. 

[t  will  now  therefore,  I  know^,  be  asked,  whether 
all  Christians  are  obliged  to  sell  their  estates,  and 
give  to  the  poor,  in  order  to  inherit  eternal  life  ? 

The  absurdity  and  ridiculousness  of  such  a  thing, 
and  the  disorder  it  must  occasion  in  life,  wdll  be 
thought  sufficient  to  expose  and  confute  all  the 
foregoing  doctrine. 

As  to  the  absurdity  and  ridiculousness  of  this 
doctrine  in  the  eyes  of  worldly  wisdom,  that  is  far 
from  being  any  objection  against  it ;  since  w^e  are 
assured  by  God  himself,  that  the  wisdom  of  this 
world  is  foolishness  with  God,  and  that  the  spirit  of 
Christianity,  and   the  spirit  of  the  w^orld,  are  as 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  7(T 

'jontrarj  to  one  another  as  the  kingdom  of  light, 
and  the  kingdom  of  darkness. 

What  can  be  more  contrary  to  worldly  greatness 
and  wisdom  than  the  doctrine  of  the  cross,  a  cruci- 
fied Saviour  ?  Which  way  could  any  one  expose 
himself  to  more  jest  and  ridicule  than  by  being  too 
meek  and  humble  to  resent  an  affront,  and  accept  a 
challenge  ?  i 

Not  only  rakes  and  libertines,  but  the  grave,  the 
religious  part  of  the  world,  talk  of  the  necessity  of 
defending  their  honour,  and  reckon  it  a  shame  not 
to  resent  and  fight  when  the  atfront  is  given. 

This  makes  the  spirit  of  the  world  ;  though  it  be 
as  consistent  with  our  religion  to  honour  the  memo- 
ry of  Cain  for  killing  his  brother,  as  to  make 
it  a  part  of  honour  to  give,  or  accept  a  challenge. 

This  may  serve  to  show  us,  that  w^e  must  disre- 
gard the  maxims  and  wisdom  of  this  world,  and  not 
form  our  judgment  of  Christian  virtues  with  any 
regard  to  it  ;  since  by  it,  patience  and  meekness 
may  be  reckoned  shameful,  and  revenge  aud  mur- 
der as  instances  of  honour. 

But  I  give  now  a  direct  answer  to  the  foregoing 
question,  and  venture  to  affirm,  upon  the  proofs  I 
have  already  produced,  that  all  Christians  are  really 
and  effectually  obliged  to  do  that  which  our  Saviour 
required  of  the  young  man. 

Our  Saviour  bid  him  sell  all  that  he  had,  and 
give  to  the  poor,  that  he  might  have  treasure  in 
heaven  ;  that  is,  he  required  him  to  renounce  the 
self-enjoyment  of  his  estate,  to  live  no  longer  in  the 
gratification  of  his  plenty,  but  offer  it  all  to  God  in 
works  of  charity,  and  relief  to  others. 

Now  the  selling  all,  is  only  a  circumstance  of 
parting  with  the  enjoyment  of  his  riches  from  him- 
self, to  all  such  objects  and  uses  as  are  worthy  of 
it  in  the  sight  of  God. 

If  our  Saviour  had  told  sinners  that  they  must 
repent  in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  I  should  have  thought 


[?D  A     PRACTICAL    TtlEATlSje' 

that  sackcloth  and  ashes  was  only  mentioned  as  a 
particular  way  of  expressing  a  general  duty,  and 
that  though  the  circumstance  of  sackcloth  and 
ashes  might  be  omitted,  yet  the  thing  intended,  the 
degree  of  humiliation  and  sorrow,  was  always  to  be 
performed  in  the  same  degree. 

I  take  it  to  be  the  same  in  the  case  before  us.  It 
is  not  necessary  that  a  man  should  sell  all  that  he 
hath,  because  that  was  the  expression  used  to  the 
young  man,  but  it  is  necessary  that  he  complj^  with 
the  thing  signified,  and  practise  all  that  disregard 
of  the  world,  and  heavenly  affection  which  is  there 
taught. 

He  sufficiently  selleth  all  who  parteth  with  the 
self-enjoyment  of  it,  and  maketh  it  the  support  of 
those  that  want  it. 

This  seems  to  me  to  be  the  true  and  plain 
meaning  of  the  passage.  The  words,  sell  all,  are 
only  used  as  a  form  of  speech,  as  a  general  way  of 
expressing  the  parting  with  the  enjoyment  of  an 
estate,  as  sackcloth  and  ashes  were  a  general  way 
of  expressing  repentance  ;  and  not  as  laying  any 
direct  obligation  of  parting  with  an  estate  in  that 
particular  way,  any  more  than  sackcloth  is  always 
necessary  to  a  true  repentance. 

A  person  that  w^as  to  give  away  his  estate  would 
surely  comply  with  the  doctrine  of  the  text,  which 
shows,  that  it  is  the  thing  signified,  and  not  the  par- 
ticular maimer  of  doing  it,  that  is  req'.iired. 

Yet  it  is  the  keeping  to  this  literal  sense  of  the 
words,  as  if  the  selling  all  was  the  particular  thing 
enjoined,  that  has  taught  people  to  excuse  them- 
selves from  the  doctrine  there  delivered. 

For  there  was  some  pretence  to  think  that  so 
particular  an  action  as  the  selling  all  could  only 
relate  to  bi'n,  to  whom  tt  was  enjoined. 

But  if  men  would  consider  that  this  sellins^  all  is 
only  a  circumstance  of  the  thins^,  as  sackcloth  \s  a 
circumstance  of  repentance  5  and  that  the  thing 


¥PON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  81 

-Kequired  is  heavenly  affection  and  devotion  to  God, 
they  would  tind  themselves  as  much  concerned  in 
the  doctrine  there  delivered,  as  in  any  other  doc- 
trine of  Scripture. 

When  our  Saviour  related  the  good  Samaritan^s 
charity,  and  said  unto  the  man  that  talked  with 
him,  Go,  mul  do  thou  likeicise^  he  is  not  exhorted  to 
stay  for  an  opportunity  of  doing  the  same  action, 
but  to  do  the  same  thing  which  was  implied  by  that 
action. 

Taking  therefore  the  words  in  this  plain  sens?, 
as  an  exhortation  to  such  a  degree  of  heavenly 
affection,  and  disclaiming  all  self-enjoyment  of 
riches,  and  not  as  to  any  particular  action  of  sel- 
ling all,  it  must  be  affirmed  that  they  equally  con- 
cern all  rich  men  to  the  end  of  the  world,  as  that 
young  man,  to  whom  they  were  spoken. 

For  as  he  was  called  to  that  temper  of  mind, 
because  it  was  a  right  temper  for  a  Christian,  a 
proper  instance  of  his  faith  and  hope,  and  devotion 
to  God,  and  a  right  way  of  using  the  things  of 
this  world  ;  how  can  it  be  thought,  that  the  same 
temper  is  not  equall}^  right  and  Christian  in  every 
rich  man  now  ?  Or  how  can  it  be  thought  that  the 
rich  men  of  this  age,  are  not  equally  obliged  to  act 
conformably  to  the  temper  and  spirit  of  religion 
now,  as  well  as  in  the  days  of  Christ  ? 

Are  not  humility  and  meekness  to  be  practised  in 
the  same  fulness  that  they  were  in  our  Saviours 
time  ?  But  if  they  arc,  it  will  l.^e  impossible  to  show, 
why  any  other  virtues  should  admit  of  any  abate- 
ments. 

Or  can  any  one  show  a  better  instance  of  humil- 
ity and  meekness,  than  in  departing  from  the 
splendid  enjoyments  of  his  forfun*^,  to  make  it  the 
support  and  relief  of  poor  and  distressod  people. 
U  ought  also  to  be  considered,  wlietherit  is  not 
impossible  to  show  that  meeknoss  and  humility 
which  was  then  required,  unless  he  practises  theij\ 
in  these  instances. 


82  A     PRACTICAL   TREATISE 

Let  it  also  be  considered,  that  this  use  of 
worldly  things  is  not  only  commanded,  as  suitable 
to  the  graces  and  virtues  of  the  Christian  life,  but 
that  the  case  of  the  rich  man  in  torments,  with 
the  other  passages  above  mentioned,  are  so  many 
express  threatenings  against  our  disobedience. 

So  that  it  must  be  affirmed,  that  we  are  as 
faiuch  obliged  to  labour  after  the  same  degrees  of 
faith,  hope,  heavenly  affection,  and  disregard  of 
the  world,  as  after  the  same  degrees  of  humility, 
charity,  and  repentance,  that  ever  was  rcquii-ed  of 
9ny  Christians. 

Let  it  be  also  considered,  that  the  command  of 
selling  all,  is  only  particular  in  the  expression ;  but 
that  the  thingrequired  is  thegeneraltemper  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  as  is  expressed  hj  being  dead  to  the  world, 
having  our  conversation  in  heaven,  being  born  of 
God^  and  having  oroercome  the  world ;  these  expres- 
sions have  no  proper  meaning,  if  they  do  not  imply 
all  that  heavenly  affection,  and  disregard  of  riches 
to  which  our  Saviour  exhorted  the  3'oung  man. 

God  forbid,  saith  St.  PauL   that  I  should  glory, 
save  in  the  cross   of  our  Lord  Jesus       pi      ^'     .. 
Christ,  by  zchom  the  70orld  is  crucified 
•unto  me,  and  1  unto  the  world* 

Now  I  desire  to  know  why  any  Christian  should 
think  it  less  dreadful  not  to  be  crucified  and  dead  to 
the  world,  than  St.  Paul  thought  it  ?  Is  not  the 
temper  and  spirit  which  the  apostle  shows  here, 
as  much  to  be  aspired  after,  as  in  any  other  part  of 
Scripture  ? 

But  can  those  who  spend  their  estates  in  their 
own  indulgences,  who  live  in  the  pomp  and  plea- 
sures of  riches,  can  they  without  profaneness  say 
that  of  themselves,  which  the  apostle  here  saith  of 
himself  ? 

Or,  cnn  they  be  said  to  have  the  Spirit  of  Christ, 
who  arc  directed  by  a  spirit  so  contrary  to  that  of 
the  apostle?  Yet  the  Scripture  says  expressly,  theft 


UPON    CHRISTIAN  PERFECTION.  83 

i/*  ^^'^y  *^^^^  ^^^^  ^^^  ^^^  Spirit  of  Christ  he  is  none 
of  his. 

.  Thus  we  see,  that  this  renunciation  of  the  world, 
which  is  thought  too  great  an  extreme,  to  be  taken 
from  the  command  given  to  the  young  man  in  the 
Gospel,  is  the  common  temper  of  Christianity,  and 
a  doctrine  the  most  universally  taught  of  any  other. 
It  is  indeed  the  very  heart  and  soul  of  Christian 
piety,  it  is  the  natural  soil,  the  proper  stock  from 
whence  all  the  graces  of  a  Christian  naturally  grov/ 
forth  ;  it  is  a  disposition  of  all  others  the  most 
necessary  and  most  productive  of  virtue.  And  if 
we  might  now  be  more  earthly^  than  in  the  days  of 
Christ,  we  must  of  necessity  be  proportionably  wan- 
ting in  all  other  virtues.  For  heavenly  atlection 
enters  so  far  into  the  be'ing  of  all  Christian  virtues, 
that  an  abatement  in  that,  is  like  an  alteration  in 
the  first  wheel  that  gives  motion  to  all  the  rest. 

I  will  now  a  little  appeal  to  the  imagination  of 
die  reader. 

Let  it  be  supposed,  that  rich  men  are  now 
enjoying  their  riches,  and  taking  all  the  common 
usual  delights  of  plenty ;  that  they  are  labouring 
for  th^  meat  that  perisheth,  projecting  and  con- 
triving scenes  of  pleasure,  and  spending  their  estates 
in  proud  expenses. 

After  this  supposition,  let  it  be  imagined  that  we 
saw  the  holy  Jesus,  who  had  not  where  to  lay  his 
head,  with  his  twelve  apostles,  that  had  left  all  to 
follow  him ;  let  us  imagine  that  we  heard  him  call 
all  the  world  to  take  up  the  cross  and  follow  him. 
promising  a  treasure  in  heaven  to  such  ?3  would  quit 
all  for  his  sake,  and  rejecting  all  that  would  not 
comply  with  such  terms  ;  denouncing  rcoe,  and 
eternal  death,  to  all  that  lived  in  fulness,  pomp,  and 
worldly  delights:  let  it  be  imae^ined  that  we  heord 
liim  commanding  his  disciples  to  tnke  no  thought, 
sayin«:,  what  shall  we  eat,  or  what  shall  we  drink, 
or  wherewithal   shall   we   be  clothed  ;  and  giving 


84  A     FRACTICAL    TREATISE^ 

this  reason  for  it,  because  after  all  tltcse  things  do 
the  Gentiles  seek* 

Let  it  be  imagined,  that  we  saw  the  first  Chris- 
tians taking  up  the  cross,  renouncing  the  world, 
and  counting  all  but  dross,  that  they  might  gain 
Christ, 

I  do  not  now  appeal  to  the  judgment  or  reason  of 
^he  reader,  1  leave  it  with  his  imagination.^  that  wild 
faculty,  to  determine  whether  it  be  possible  for  these 
two  different  sorts  of  men  to  be  true  disciples  of  the 
i^ame  Lord. 

To  proceed : 

Let  us  suppose  that  a  rich  man  was  to  put  up 
such  a  prayer  as  this  to  God  ; 

'''  O  Lord,  I  thy  sinful  creature,  who  am  born 
^'  again  to  a  lively  hope  of  glory  in  Christ  Jesus, 
"'  beg  of  thee,  to  grant  me  a  thousand  times  more 
^*  riches  than  I  need,  that  I  may  be  able  to  gratify 
"  myself  and  family  in  the  delights  of  eating  and 
'•  drinking,  state  and  grandeur ;  grant,  that  as  the 
^'  little  span  of  life  wears  out,  I  may  still  abound 
*'  more  and  more  in  wealth,  and  that  1  may  see  and 
^'  perceive  all  the  best  and  surest  ways  of  growing 
'•  richer  than  any  of  my  neighbours  ;  this  1  humbly 
*•  and  fervently  beg  in  the  name,  &c." 

Such  a  prayer  as  this  should  have  had  no  place 
in  this  treatise,  but  that  1  have  reason  to  hope,  that, 
in  proportion  as  it  offends  the  ear,  it  will  amend  the 
Ilea  rt. 

There  is  no  one,  I  believe,  but  would  be  ashamed 
to  put  up  such  a  prayer  as  this  to  Cod,  yet  let 
it  be  well  observed,  that  all  are  of  the  temper 
of  this  prayer,  but  those  who  have  overcome  the 
world. 

We  need  not  p"0  amongst  villains,  and  people  of 
scandalous  characters,  to  find  out  those  who  d'  sire 
€1  thoiisruid  times  more  thnn  they  need  ;  who  have 
an  eaq'prness  to  be  every  day  richer  and  richer :  who 
c^itch  at  all  ways  of  gain  that  arc  not  scandalous^. 


tfOH   CHRISTIAN    PERFEeTI,Ox\%  85 

^incl  who  hardly  think  ony  thing  enongh,  except  it 
equals  or  exceeds  the  estate  of  their  neighbours. 

1  beg  of  such,  that  they  would  heartily  condemn 
the  profane  and  unchristian  spirit  of  the  foregoing 
prayer,  and  that  they  would  satisfy  themselves,  that 
nothing  can  be  more  odious  and  contrary  to  reli- 
gion than  such  petitions. 

But  then  let  them  be  assured  also  of  this,  that 
the  same  things  which  make  an  unchristian  prayer, 
make  an  unchristian  life. 

For  the  reason  why  these  things  appear  so  odious 
in  a  prayer,  is  because  they  are  so  contrary  to  the 
spirit  of  religion.  But  is  it  not  as  bad  to  live  and 
act  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  religion,  as  to  pray 
contrary  to  it  ? 

At  least,  must  not  that  manner  of  life  be  very 
blameable,  very  contrary  to  piety,  which  is  so 
shocking,  when  put  into  the  form  of  a  prayer  ? 

But  indeed,  whatever  we  may  think,  as  we  live., 
so  we  really  pray  ;  for  as  Christ  saith,  where  our 
treasure  u,  there  zvilt  our  heart  be  also  ;  so  as  the 
manner  of  our  life  is,  so  is  our  heart  also  ;  it  is  con- 
tinually praying  what  our  life  is  acting,  though  not 
in  any  express  form  of  words. 

To  pursue  this  argument  a  little  ;  Is  this  prayer 
too  shocking?  Dare  we  not  approach  God  with 
such  a  spirit?  How  dare  we  then  to  think  of  ap- 
proaching him  with  such  a  life  ? 

Need  we  an}''  other  conviction,  that  this  manner 
of  life  is  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  Christianity,  than 
this,  that  the  praying  according  to  it  in  Christ's 
name,  comes  near  to  blasphemy  ? 

Does  not  this  also  sufficiently  convince  us  of  the 

reasonableness  of  Christ's  command,  to  forsake  the 

fulness,  the  indulgence,  and  pride  of  estates  ;  since 

it  is  a  state  of  life  that  our  reason  dare  not  ask  God 

to  give  us  ? 

Let  it  be  considered  how  we  should  abominate  a 
person  whom  we  knew  to  use  such  a  praj'tr,  and  let 

8 


86  A   PRACTICAL   TREATISE 

that  teach  ns  how  ahominable  a  life  that  is  like  it 
iniist  make  tis  to  appear  in  the  eyes  of  God,  and 
with  this  addition  of  folly  joined  to  it,  that  we  call 
the  prayer  profane^  but  think  the  life  that  answers 
to  it  to  be  Christian, 

Perhaps  there  cannot  be  a  better  way  of  judging 
of  what  manner  of  spirit  we  are  of,  than  to  see 
whether  the  actions  of  our  life  are  such  as  we  may 
safely  commend  to  God  in  our  prayers. 

For  it  is  undeniable,  that  if  they  are  such  as  we 
dare  not  mention  to  God  in  our  prayers,  we  ought 
in  all  reason  to  be  as  fearful  of  acting  them  in  his 
presence. 

We  may  indeed  do  several  innocent  things  which, 
on  account  of  their  littleness,  are  unfit  to  be  put  into 
our  devotions  ;  but  if  the  chief  and  main  actions  of 
our  life  are  not  such,  as  we  may  justly  beg  the  assis- 
tance of  God's  Holy  Spirit  in  the  performance  of 
them,  we  may  be  assured  that  such  actions  make 
our  lives  as  unholy  as  such  petitions  would  make 
our  prayers. 

From  all  that  has  been  above  observed,  I  think  it 
h  sufficiently  plain,  that  the  present  disciples  of 
Jesus  Christ  are  to  have  no  more  to  do  with  worldly 
enjoyments  than  those  that  he  chose  whilst  he  him- 
self was  on  earth  ;  and  that  he  expects  as  much 
devotion  to  God,  and  heavenly  affection  from  us.  as 
from  any  that  he  conversed  with,  and  speaks  the 
same  language,  and  gives  the  same  commands  to  all 
rich  men  now  that  he  gave  to  the  rich  young  man 
in  tiie  Gospel. 


«PON   CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  87 

CHAP.  V. 

A  farther  Continuation  of  the  same  Subject, 

THE  subject  of  the  two  preceding  chapters  is  of 
&uch  importance,  that  I  cannot  leave  it  without 
adding  some  farther  considerations  upon  it. 

FoF,  notwithstanding  the  Scriptures  are  so  clear 
and  express  on  the  side  of  the  doctrine  there  deliv- 
ered, yet  I  must  expect  to  encounter  the  prejudices 
of  men  who  are  settled  in  other  opinions. 

I  know  it  will  still  be  asked,  where  can  be  the  im- 
piety of  getting  or  enjoying  an  estate  ? 

Whether  it  be  not  honourable,  and  matter  of  just 
praise,  to  provide  an  estate  for  one's  family  ? 

It  will  also  be  asked,  what  people  of  birth  and 
fortune  are  to  do  with  themselves  if  they  are  not  to 
live  suitably  to  their  estates  and  qualities  ? 

Any  one  that  has  taken  the  trouble  to  read  this 
treatise,  must  have  found,  that  the  doctrine  here 
taught  is  none  of  mine,  and  that  therefore  I  have 
no  occasion  to  support  it  against  such  questions  as 
these. 

The  same  persons  may  as  well  ask,  why  the  little 
span  of  life  is  made  a  state  of  trial  and  probation, 
in  which  men  of  all  conditions  are  to  zvark  out  their 
salvation  with  fear  and  trembling  ? 

But,  however,  to  the  first  question  let  it  be  an- 
swered : 

Take  no  thouc^hf^  saying.  What  shall  zee  eat,  or 
xohat  shall  we  drink,  or  whereroithal  shall  loe  be  clo- 
thed ;  fur  after  all  these  things  do  the  Gentilt^ 
seek. 

If  to  be  careful  and  thoughtful  about  the  neces- 
saries of  life,  be  a  care  that  is  here  forbidden,  and 
that  because  it  is  such  a  care  as  only  becomes  hea- 
thens ;  surely,  to  be  careful  and  thougluful  how  to 
raise  an  estate,  and  enrich  one'iS  family,  is  a  care 


38  A    PRACTICAL  TREATISE 

that  is  sufficiently  forbidden  Christians.  And  he 
that  can  yet  think  it  lawful  and  creditable  la  make 
it  the  care  and  design  of  his  life  to  get  an  estate,  is 
too  blind  to  be  convinced  by  arguments.  He  may, 
with  as  much  regard  to  Scripture,  say,  that  it  i» 
lawful  to  swear  falsely,  though  it  forbids  him  to 
speak  falsely. 

Our  Saviour  saith,  Lnhour  not  for  the  meat  that 
perishdh,  hut  for  that  meat  tohich  endur'  j  i        '   o-y 
dh  unlo  everlasting  life.  He  commands  *  *  * 

us  not  to  lay  up  for  ourselves  treasures  on  earth  ; 
he  as&urcs  us  that  wc  cannot  serve  God  and  mam- 
mon. 

Now  these  places  have  no  meaning,  if  it  is  still 
lawful  for  Christians  to  heap  up  treasures,  to  labour 
for  great  estates,  and  pursue  designs  of  enriching^ 
their  families. 

I  know  it  is  easy  to  evade  the  force  of  these 
texts,  and  to  make  plausible  harangues  upon  the 
ihnocency  of  labouring  to  be  rich,  and  the  consis* 
tency  of  serving  God  and  mammon. 

I  do  not  question  but  the  rich  young  man  in  the 
Gospel,  who  had  kept  the  commandments  of  God 
from  his  youth,  could  have  made  a  very  good  apo- 
logy for  himself,  and  have  shown  how  reasonable 
and  innocent  a  thing  it  was  for  so  good  aiKl  so 
young  a  man  to  enjoy  an  estate. 

The  rich  man  in  torments  could  have  alleged 
liow  much  good  he  did  with  his  fortune,  how  many 
trades  he  encouraged  by  his  purple  and  fine  linen, 
and  faring  sumptuously  every  day  ;  and  how  he 
comformed  to  the  ends  and  advantages  of  society 
by  so  spending  his  estate. 

But  to  return  :  The  apostle  saith,  Harm^f  fi^^ 
and  raiment^  let  vs  he   thereivith  content  ;  that  they 
wlio  will  he  rich    fall  into  a  temptafion      ^  rjy       ,  •    o 
and  a  snare^  ana  into  many jootisli  and 
hurtful  lust&^  ichich  drown  men  in  destruction  and  per- 
dition* 


UPON    CHftlSTrAN    PERFECTION.  Z9. 

We  may  perhaps,  by  some  acuteness  of  reason- 
ing, find  out  that  this  doctrine  still  leaves  us  at 
our  liberty,  whether  we  will  lal^our  to  be  rich  or 
not  ;  and  if  we  do,  we  are  as  much  enlightened  as 
the  quakcrs,  who  find  themselves  at  liberty  from 
the  use  of  the  sacraments. 

We  may  pretend,  that  notwithstanding  what  the 
apostle  here  says  of  a  snare^  a  temptation^  and  fool- 
ish lusts  ;  yet  that  we  can  pursue  the  means,  and 
desire  the  happiness  of  riches,  without  any  danger 
to  our  virtue. 

But  if  so,  we  are  as  prudent  as  those  Christians 
who  think  they  can  secure  their  virtue  without 
watching  and  prayer  ;  though  our  Saviour  has  said, 
Watch  and  pray  that  ye,  enter  not  into  temptation. 

He  therefore,  that  neglects  watching  and  prayer, 
though  the  appointed  means  of  avoiding  tempta- 
tion, may  show  that  he  lives  as  much  according  to 
Scripture  as  he  that  is  careful  and  desirous  of  riches 
and  wealth,  though  they  are  the  declared  occasions 
oi  sin^  snares  and  destruction. 

If  we  will  not  be  so  humble  and  teachable,  as  to 
conform  to  the  Scripture  in  the  simplicity  and  plain- 
ness of  its  doctrines,  there  will  be  no  end  of  our 
errors  ;  but  we  shall  be  in  as  much  darkness  as 
where  the  light  of  Scripture  never  appeared. 

For  if  we  could  submit  to  its  plain  and  repeated 
doctrines,  it  would  never  be  asked,  what  people  of 
birth  and  fortune  are  to  do  with  themselves,  if  they 
are  not  to  live  up  to  the  splendor  and  plenty  of 
their  estates. 

The  rich  man  in  the  Gospel  was  a  ruler,  a  youna; 
man,  and  a  good  man  ;  if,  therefore,  there  are  any 
amongst  us  that  are  neither  young  nor  g^ood.  it  can 
hardly  be  thought  that  they  have  Irss  to  do  to  inhe- 
rit eternal  life  than  the  young  man  in  the  Gospel. 

And  as  for  those  who,  like  him,  have  kept  the 
cominandments  of  God  from  their  youth,  1  dare  not 
tell  them,  that  they  are  not  under  a  necessity  oV 

8* 


^  A    PRACTICAL    TREATI-Z 

offoring  ail  thr-ir  wealth  to  God,  and  of  makiii;^ 
their  estates,  however  acquired,  not  the  support  ol' 
any  foolish  vain  indulgences,  but  therelief  of  theif 
distressed  brethren. 

Suppose  great  people,  by  means  of  their  wealthy 
could  throw  themselves  into  a  deep  sleep  of  plea- 
sant dreams,  which  would  last  till  death  awaked 
them  ;  would  any  one  think  it  lawful  for  them  1-3 
make  such  use  of  their  riches. 

But  if  it  was  asked,  why  this  is  not  as  lawful  as  a 
life  of  high  living,  vain  indulgences,  and  worldly 
pleasures,  it  could  not  be  easily  told. 

For  such  a  life  as  this  is  no  more  like  a  state  of 
probation  than  such  a  sleep  is  like  it :  and  he  that 
has  done  nothing  but  sleep  and  dream  to  the  time  of 
his  death,  may  as  well  say,  that  he  has  been  loork- 
ing  fMt  his  salvation  with  fear  and  tremhHn<f^  as  he 
that  has  been  living  in  such  luxury,  splendor,  and> 
vain  gratifications,  as  his  estate  could  y)rocure  him. 

The  Gospel  has  made  no  provision  for  dignity  of 
birth,  or  dilTerence  in  fortune  ;  but  has  appointed 
the  same  straight  m'^^  the  common  passage  for  all 
persons  to  enter  into  gloi*y. 

The  distinctions  of  civil  life  have  thfir  u?,o,  and 
arc,  in  some  degree,  necessary  to  sorif  ty  ;  but  if 
any  one  thinks  he  may  be  less  devoted  to  God,  less 
afraid  of  the  corruptions  of  pleasures,  the  vanities 
of  pride,  because  he  was  born  of  one  family  rather 
fhan  another,  he  is  as  much  mistaken  as  he  that 
fancies  he  has  a  privilege  to  steal,  because  he  was 
born  of  a  father  that  was  poor. 

Why  may  not  poor  people  give  themselves  up  to 
discontent,  to  impatience,  and  repining?  Is  it  not 
bf'cause  Christianity  requires  the  same  virtues  in 
all  states  of  life  ?  Is  it  tiot  because  the  rewards  of 
relijriori  are  sufficient  to  make  us  thankful  in  every 
condition  ? 

But  who  sees  not  that  these  same  reasons  equally 
condemn  the  gratifications,  the  sensual  indulgences 


UPON"  christiah  perfection.  ^i 

of  the  rich,  as  the  discontents  and  rcpinings  of  the 
poor  ? 

So  that  a  great  man  taking  his  swing  in  worldly 
pleasures,  in  the  various  gratitications  which  his 
plenty  cm  furnish,  is  as  good  a  Christian,  as  care- 
ful of  his  duty  to  God,  as  the  poor  man  who  resigns- 
himself  up  to  discontent,  and  spends  his  time  and 
spirits  in  restless  complaints  and  i-epinings. 

And  if  the  joys  of  religion,  our  hopes  in  Christ, 
are  sutlicient  to  make  us  rejoice  in  tribulation,  and 
be  thankful  to  God  in  the  hardships  of  poverty  ^ 
surely  the  same  hopes  in  Christ  must  be  equally 
sutlicient  to  make  us  forbear  the  luxury  and  soft- 
ness, and  all  other  pleasures  of  imaginary  great- 
ness. 

If,  therefore,  the  rich  and  great  man  can  find  out 
a  course  of  pleasures,  that  support  no  wrong  turn  of 
mind  ;  a  luxury  and  indulgence,  which  do  not  gra- 
tify sensuality ;  delights,  and  entertainments,  which 
indulge  no  vain  and  weak  passions;  if  they  can  find 
out  such  self-enjoyments  of  their  riches  as  show 
that  they  love  God  with  all  their  strength,  and 
their  neighbours  as  themselves  ;  if  they  can  find  out 
such  instances  of  splendor  and  greatness,  as  gratify 
neither  the  /u.-j/  of  the  fleshy  the  lust  of  the  ei/es^  nor 
the  pr'ulc  of  life  :  religion  has  no  comnjand  against 
such  enjoyments. 

But  if  this  cannot  be  done,  let  it  be  remembered 
that  the  rich  have  no  more  jx'rmission  to  live  in 
sensual  pleasures,  and  vain  indulgences,  than  the 
poor  have  to  spend  their  time  in  anxious  complaints 
and  unthanktul  rcpinings. 

Let  it  also  be  remembered,  that  if  any  distinc- 
tions of  life  make  men  forget,  that  sin  is  their  only 
ba'^eness,  and  hohness  their  only  honour  ;  if  any 
conditio  1  makes  them  less  dispo-^ed  to  imitate  the 
low,  humble  estate  of  their  su^rerinsj  Master,  or 
forget  that  they  are  to  return  to  God  by  humilia- 
tion, repentance,  and  vself-denial  :  instead  of  being 


92"  A    PTIACTIGAL    TREATISE! 


any  real  advantage,  it  is  their  curse,  their  snare, 
and  destruction. 

Had  there  been  any  other  lawful  way  of  employ-, 
ing  our  wealth,  than  in  the  assistance  of  the  poor, 
our  Saviour  would  not  have  confined  the  young 
man  in  the  Gospel  to  that  one  way  of  employing  all 
that  he  had. 

Was  there  no  sin  in  pampering  ourselves  with 
our  riches,  our  Saviour  had  not  said,  JVoe  unto  yotc 
that  are  rich^  for  ye  have  received  your  consolation  ! 

Had  a  delight  in  the  splendor  and  greatness  of 
this  life  been  an  innocent  delight  for  people  of  birth 
and  fortune,  he  had  never  said,  Blessed  are  the  poor 
in  spirit^  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

Had  worldly  mirth,  and  the  noisy  joys  of  splen- 
dor and  equipage,  been  any  part  of  the  happiness 
of  Christians,  he  had  never  said,  Blessed  are  they 
that  mourn,  for  they  shall  h*  comforted. 

Thus  does  it  appear,  from  almost  every  part  of 
Scripture,  that  a  renunciation  of  the  world,  and  all 
worldly  enjoyments,  either  of  pleasure  or  pride, 
is  the  necessary  temper  of  all  Christians  of  every 
state  and  condition. 

1  know,  that  to  all  this  it  will  still  be  objected, 
that  the  different  states  of  life  are  things  indifferent 
in  themselves,  ajid  are  made  good  or  evil  by  the 
tempers  of  the  persons  that  enjoy  them.  That  a 
man  is  not  necessarily  vain  and  proud,  because  he 
lives  in  great  show  and  fisjure,  any  more  than  a-no- 
ther  is  necessarily  humble  and  lowly  in  mind,  be- 
cause he  lives  in  a  low  estate. 

It  is  granted  that  men  may  be  of  a  temper  con- 
trary to  the  state  in  which  they  live  ;  but  then  this 
is  only  true  of  such  as  are  in  .any  state  by  tbrcc, 
and  contrary  to  their  desires  and  endeavours. 

A  mrin  in  a  low  estate  may  be  very  vain  and 
proud,  because  he  is  In  such  a  state  by  force,  and 
is  restless  and  uneasv  till  he  can  raise  himself  out 
of  it.     If  the  ^ame  can  be  said  of  any  man  that  liyes 


UPOiy    CHRISTIAN    PERFEGTlOX.  '  9^3 

m  all  the  splendor  and  figure  of  life,  that  he  is  in  it 
by  force,  and  is  restless  and  uneasy  till  he  can  lay 
all  aside,  and  Hve  in  an  humble,  lowly  state,  it  may 
be  granted,  that  such  a  man,  though  in  the  height 
of  figure,  may  be  as  humble  as  another  in  starving 
circumstances  may  be  proud. 

But  nothing  can  be  more  false  than  to  tor;cludc, 
i-hat  because  a  man  may  be  in  a  low  estate,  without 
having  lowliness  of  mind,  which  estate  he  is  in  by 
force  ;  that,  therefore,  another  may  live  in  all  the 
j-»jight  of  grandeur,  the  vanity  of  figure,  which  his 
fortune  will  allow,  without  having  any  height  of 
vanity  of  mind,  though  the  state  of  life  be  accord- 
ing to  his  mind,  and  such  as  he  chooses  before  ano- 
ther that  has  less  of  figure  and  show  in  it. 

Nothing  can  be  more  absurd  than  such  a  cort- 
elusion  as  this  ;  it  is  as  if  one  should  say,  that 
because  a  man  may  be  an  epticure  in  his  temper, 
though  he  is  forced  to  live  upon  Ijread  and  w^ater  ; 
therefore  another,  who  seeks  after  all  sorts  of  dain- 
ties, and  lives  upon  delicacies  out  of  choice,  may  be 
no  epicure. 

Again,  Who  does  not  know  that  a  man  may  give 
all  his  goods  to  feed  the  poor,  and  yet  want  cha- 
rity ?  But  will  any  one  therefore  conclude,  that 
another  may  keep  all  his  goods  to  himself,  and  yet 
have  charity  ? 

Ye4.  this  is  as  well  argued  as  to  say,  that  because 
a  mnn  has  nothing  to  spend  he  may  yet  be  proud  ; 
therefore,  though  another  may  lay  out  his  estate  in 
vain  expenses,  he  may  yet  have  true  humility  of 
mind. 

For  as  the  man  in  a  low  estate  would  be  truly 
what  liis  estate  is,  if  he  liked  it,  nnd  bad  no  desires 
that  it  should  be  otherwise  than  it  is  ;  so  for  the 
same  reason,  if  those  who  live  in  pleasure,  in  show 
and  vain  expenses,  live  in  such  a  state  out  of  choice  ; 
we  must  talk  nonsense,  if  we  do  not  say  that  their 
*  minds  are  ns  vain  as  the  vanity  of  ih^^ir  sta(e. 

A^aipj  Th^se  who  talk  of  people's  being  humble- 


94  A  1*RACTIGAL  TREATIES- 

in  a  state,  that  has  all  the  appearance  of  prltle  and 
vanity,  do  not  enough  consider  the  nature  of  virtue. 
Humility,  and  every  other  virtue,  is  never  in  a 
complete  state,  so  that  a  man  can  say,  that  he  has 
finished  his  task  in  such  or  such  a  virtue. 

No  virtues  have  any  existence  of  thi.<  kind  m 
human  minds  ;  they  are  rather  continual  struggles 
with  contrary  vices,  than  any  finished  habits  of 
mind. 

A  man  is  humble,  not  for  what  he  has  already 
done,  but  brcause  it  is  his  continual  disposition  ;q 
oppose  and  reject  every  temptation  to  pride.  Cha- 
rity is  a  continual  struggle  with  the  contrary  qua- 
lities of  self-love  and  envy. 

And  this  is  the  state  of  every  virtue  ;  it  is  a  pro- 
gressive temper  of  mind,  and  always  equally  la- 
bouring to  preserve  itself. 

Those  therefore  who  suppose  that  people  may  be 
so  finished  in  the  virtue  of  humility,  that  they  can 
be  truly  humble  in  the  enjoyments  of  splendor  and 
vanity,  do  not  consider  that  humility  is  never  fin- 
ished, and  that  it  ceases  to  exist,  when  it  ceases  to 
oppose  and  reject  every  appearance  of  pride. 

This  is  the  true  state  of  every  virtue,  a  resisting 
and  opposing  all  the  temptations  to  the  contrary 
vice. 

To  suppose  therefore  a  man  so  truly  humble^ 
that  he  may  live  in  all  the  appearances  of  pride  and 
vanity,  is  as  absurd,  as  to  suppose  a  man  so  in- 
wardly sober  that  he  need  refuse  no  strong  liquors  ; 
so  inwardly  charitable,  that  he  need  not  avoid 
quarrels  ;  or  so  holy,  that  he  need  not  resist 
temptations  to  sin. 

Lastly,  The  necessity  of  renouncing  the  Avorld  hi 
whatever  condition  of  life  we  are,  besides  what  ap- 
pears from  particular  commands,  may  be  proved 
from  those  great  degrees  of  holiness,  those  divin6 
,^  ^  tempers,  which  Christianity  requires. 
^*    '   (i^hfislians  are  to  love  God  will)  ull  their  Iturf^ 


UPO:^*    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTIOX.  95 

'Aiiltli  all   their  soul^  7vith  all  their  mind,  and  with  all 
iheir  strength,  and  their  neighbour  as  themselves. 

Now  it  is  absolutely  impossible  in  the  nature  of 
tbe  thing,  that  "vve  should  practise  cither  of  these 
duties  in  any  Christian  sense,  unless  we  are  so  born 
of  God,  as  to  have  overcome  the  rrorld, 

A  man  that  has  his  head  and  his  heart  taken  up 
with  worldly  concerns,  can  no  more  love  God  with 
all  his  soul,  and  with  all  his  strength,  than  a  man 
who  will  have  his  eye*  upon  the  ground,  can  be 
looking  towards  heaven  with  all  the  strength  of  his 
sight. 

Jf  therefore  we  are  to  love  God  with  all  our 
heart,  and  with  all  our  soul,  it  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary that  we  be  first  persuaded,  that  we  have  no 
happiness  but  in  him  alone  ;  and  that  we  are  capa- 
ble of  no  other  good,  but  what  arises  from  our  en- 
joyment of  the  divine  nature. 

But  we  may  be  assured,  that  we  never  believe 
this  truth,  till  we  resign  or  renounce  all  preten- 
tions to  any  other  happiness.  For  to  desire  the  hap- 
piness of  riches,  at  the  same  time  that  we  know 
that  all  happiness  is  in  God,  is  as  impossible  as  t® 
desire  the  happiness  of  sickness,  when  we  are  assur- 
ed that  no  bodily  state  is  happy  but  that  of  health. 

It  is  therefore  certain,  in  an  absolute  degree,  that 
we  are  as  much  obliged  to  renounce  the  world  with 
all  our  heart,  and  all  our  strength,  as  we  are  obliged 
to  love  God  with  all  our  heart,  and  all  our  strength. 

It  being  as  impossible  to  do  one  without  the 
other,  as  to  exert  all  our  strength  two  dilTerent  ways 
at  the  same  time. 

It  is  also  certain,  in  the  snme  absolute  degree, 
that  we  unavoidably  love  rvory  thing  in  proportion 
as  it  appears  to  be  our  happiness ;  if  it  appears  t® 
be  half  of  our  happiness,  it  will  necessarily  have 
half  the  strenjjth  of  our  love  ;  and  if  it  appears  t<> 
be  all  of  O'lr  happiness  we  shall  naturally  love  it 
with  all  our  strength. 


90  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

The  Christian  religion  therefore,  which  requires 
ihe  whole  strength  of  our  nature  to  aspire  after 
God,  lays  this  just  foundation  of  our  performing 
this  duty,  by  commanding  us  to  renounce  the  hap- 
piness of  the  world,  knowing  it  impossible  to  have 
two  happinesses,  and  but  one  love. 

And  indeed  what  can  be  more  ridiculous  than  to 
fancy  that  a  man,  who  is  labouring  after  schcmc«5 
of  felicity,  that  is  taken  up  in  the  enjoyments  of  the 
world,  is  loving  God  with  all  his  soul^  and  all  his 
strength  ? 

Is  it  not  as  absurd,  as  to  suppose  a  man  that  is 
devoted  to  the  sports  of  the  field  is  at  the  same 
time  contemplating  mathematical  speculations  with 
all  the  ardour  of  his  mind  ? 

Let  any  one  but  deal  faithfully  with  himself, 
ronsult  his  own  experience,  the  inward  feelings  of 
his  mind,  and  consider  whether,  whilst  his  soul  is 
taken  up  with  the  enjoyments  of  this  life,  he  feels 
that  his  soul  is  loving  God  with  all  its  force  and 
strength  ;  let  any  man  say  that  he  feels  this  strong 
tendency  of  his  soul  towards  God,  whilst  it  tends 
towards  earthly  goods,  and  I  may  venture  to  depart 
from  all  that  1  have  said. 

Nothing,  therefore,  can  be  more  plain  than  this^ 
that  if  we  are  to  fill  our  soul  with  a  new  love,  we 
must  empty  it  of  all  other  affections,  and  this  by  as 
great  a  necessity  as  any  in  naturr% 

The  love  of  6od,  as  f  have  said  of  every  other 
virtue,  is  nevtjr  in  any  complete  sf  ate,  but  is  to  pre- 
serve and  improve  itself  by  a  continual  oppositioa 
and  resistance  of  other  affections. 

It  is  as  necessary  therefore  continually  to  re- 
nounce the  world,  and  all  its  objects  of  our  affec- 
tions, in  order  to  form  the  love  of  God  in  our  hearts, 
as  it  is  necessary  to  renounce  nnd  rf  sist  all  motives 
of  self-love  and  envy,  to  bec^et  the  hnbit  of  charily. 
And  a  man  may  as  well  pretend  that  little  en- 
vies are  consistent  with  true  chariiy»  as  that  littlo 


urOii    CHRISTIAN  PERFECTION.  J* 

i4csires  after  llic  vanities  of  the  world  arc  consis- 
tent with  an  entire  love  of  God  with  all  our  hearts. 

It  may  bo  said,  that  though  this  appears  true  in 
the  reason  of  the  thing,  as  considered  in  specula- 
tion ;  yet  that  this  is  a  love  for  angels,  and  not 
suited  to  the  state  of  man. 

J  answer,  it  is  what  God  has  required,  and  the 
same  objection  may  be  made  against  all  other 
Christian  virtues,  for  they  are  all  required  in  a  per- 
fect degree. 

Sccondlj^,  If  it  is  a  degree  of  affection  hardly 
attainable,  this  makes  for  the  doctrine  which  I  have 
delivered,  and  shows  the  absolute  necessity  of 
having  no  more  enjoyments  in  the  world  than  such 
as  necessity  requires. 

For  if  it  is  so  hard  to  raise  the  soul  to  this  degree 
of  love,  surely  it  must  be  stupid  to  add  to  the  diffi- 
culty by  foolish  and  contrary  aficctions. 

Thirdly,  If  this  is  the  proper  love  of  angels,  this 
proves  that  it  is  as  proper  for  us,  who  are  taught  by 
God  to  pray,  that  his  will  may  be  done  on  earth  as 
it  is  in  heaven. 

At  least,  if  this  is  the  love  of  angels,  it  shows  us, 
that  we  are  to  imitate  it  as  far  as  our  nature  will 
allow,  and  to  stop  at  no  degrees  short  of  it,  but 
such  as  we  cannot  possibly  reach. 

But  can  he  be  said  lo  be  doing  his  utmost  to  love 
like  an  angel,  that  is  building  schemes  of  fojicity 
on  earth,  and  seeking  satisfaction  in  its  imaginary 
enjoyments  ? 

As  sure  therefore  as  this  is  the  love  of  angels,  as 
sure  as  we  arc  called  to  an  angelical  state  of  life 
with  God  :  so  surely  are  we  obliged  to  lay  aside 
every  hinderance,  to  part  with  every  enjoynrnt 
that  may  stop  or  retard  the  soul  in  its  rise  and  af- 
fection towards  God. 

)Ve  differ  from  angels,  as  we  are  in  a  state  of 
probation,  and  loaded  with  flesh  ;  and  though  till 
the  trial  be  over,  wc  must  bear  with  iaiirniiiies  and 

9 


98  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

necessities,  to  which  they  arc  not  subject ;  yet  we 
must  no  more  choose  follies,  or  find  out  false  de- 
lights for  ourselves,  than  if  we  were,  like  them,  free 
from  all  infirmities. 

The  love  of  enemies  is  said  to  be  a  love  that 
becomes  the  perfection  of  God  ;  but  yet  we  see  that 
we  are  so  far  from  being  excused  from  this  manner 
of  love,  because  it  is  divine,  and  suits  the  nature  of 
God,  that  v/e  are,  for  that  reason  expressly  called 
to  it,  that  we  may  be  children  of  our  Father  zvhich  is 
in  heaven. 

If  therefore  we  arc  called  to  that  spirit  of  love, 
which  becomes  the  perfection  of  God,  surely  the 
manner  of  angelic  love  is  not  too  high  for  us  to 
aspire  after. 

All  therefore  that  we  are  to  learn  from  this  mat- 
ter is  this,  that  a  renunciation  of  the  world  is  neces- 
sary, that  this  holy  love  cannot  be  attained,  unless 
we  only  use  the  world  so  far  as  our  needs  and  infir- 
mities require,  and  think  of  no  happiness  but  what 
is  prepared  foi-  us  at  the  right  hand  of  God. 

Fourthly,  This  entire  love  of  God  is  as  possible 
as  the  attainment  of  several  other  duties,  which  still 
are  the  rules  of  our  behaviour,  and  such  as  we  are 
obliged  to  aspire  after  in  the  utmost  perfection. 

The  sincere  love  of  our  enemies  is,  perhaps,  of 
all  other  tempers  the  hardest  to  be  acquired,  and 
the  motions  of  envy  and  spight  the  most  ditlTult  to 
be  entirely  laid  aside  ;  yet,  without  this  temper,  we 
are  unfjunlificd  to  say  the  Lord's  Prayer.  TVe  see 
examples  of  this  love  of  God  in  the  lirst  followers 
of  our  Saviour ;  and  though  we  cannot  work  mira- 
cles as  they  did,  yet  we  may  arrive  at  their  per- 
sonal holiness,  if  we  would  but  be  so  humble  as 
to  imitate  theii*  examples. 

Our  Saviour  told  them  the  infallible  way  of 
arriving  at  piety,  which  wns  by  renoimcing  the 
world,  and  taking  up  the  cross,  and  follow  ing  him, 
.that  they  might  have  treasure  in  heaven.  This  was 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  Q9 

the  only  wa}^  then,  and  it  would  still  be  as  success- 
ful now,  had  we  but  the  faith  and  humility  to  put 
it  in  practice. 

But  we  are  now^,  it  seems,  become  so  ii^isc  and 
prudent^  we  see  so  much  farther  info  the  nature  of 
virtue  and  vice,  than  the  simplicity  of  the  first 
Christians,  that  we  can  take  all  the  enjoyments  of 
the  world  along  with  us  in  our  road  to  heaven. 

They  took  Christ  at  his  word,  and  parted  with 
all ;  but  we  take  upon  us  to  reason  about  the  inno- 
eency  of  wealth  and  stately  enjoyments,  and  to 
possess  every  thing,  but  the  spirit  of  our  religion. 

It  is  sometimes  said  in  defence  of  the  dulness  of 
our  affections  towards  God,  that  affections  are  tem- 
pers which  we  cannot  command,  and  depend  much 
upon  constitution  ;  so  that  persons,  who  are  pos- 
sessed of  a  true  fear  of  God,  may  yet  by  reason  of 
their  constitution  feel  less  vehemency  of  love,  than 
others  who  are   less  piously  disposed. 

This  is  partly  true,  and  partly  false. 

It  is  true,  that  our  affections  are  very  much  in- 
fluenced by  our  constitutions  ;  but  then  it  is  f  i!se, 
that  this  is  any  defence  of  our  want  of  affection 
towards  God. 

Two  persons,  that  equally  feel  the  want  of  some- 
thing to  (jucnch  their  thirst,  may  show  a  different 
passion  after  water,  by  a  difference  in  their  constitu- 
tions ;  but  still,  thirst  after- water  is  the  ruling  desire 
in  both  of  them. 

Two  epicures^  by  a  difference  in  their  constita- 
tion,  may  differ  in  the  manner  of  their  eagerness 
after  dainties  ;  but  still  it  is  the  love  of  daintic.^ 
that  is  the  governing  love  in  both  of  them. 

It  is  the  s  imc  thing  in  th?  case  before  us,  two 
persons  may  equally  look  upon  God  as  their  sok^ 
happiness  ;  by  reason  of  their  different  tempers,  one 
may  be  capable  of  greater  fervours  of  desire  after 
him  than  the  other,  but  still,  it  is  the  ruling  de- 
sire of  the  other. 


100  A  PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

Therefore  though  good  men  may  content  them- 
selves, though  they  have  not  such  flames  of  dcsh-e, 
as  tliey  may  see  or  hear  of  in  other  people  ;  yet 
there  is  no  foundation  for  this  content,  unless  they 
know  that  they  seek  and  desire  no  other  hrppiness 
than  God,  and  that  their  love,  though  not  so  fervent 
as  some  others'*,  is  still  the  ruling  and  governing 
affection  of  their  soul. 

Notwithstanding  the  difference  in  constitution^ 
we  see  all  people  rj-e  affected  v»'ith  v.hat  they  reckon 
their  happiness  :  if  therefore  people  are  not  full  of  a 
desire  of  God,  it  is  because  they  are  fall  of,  or  at  least 
engaged  with,  another  happiness  ;  it  is  not  any  slow- 
ness of  spirits,  but  a  variety  of  enjoyments,  that 
have  taken  hold  of  their  hearts,  and  rendered  them 
insensible  of  that  happiness  that  is  to  be  found  in 
God. 

A'Vhen  any  man  has  followed  the  counsels  of  our 
l>lessed  Saviour,  when  he  has  renounced  the  world, 
rejected  all  the  flattering  appearances  of  worldly 
happiness,  emptied  himself  of  all  idle  affections, 
and  practised  all  the  means  of  fixing  his  heart  upon 
God  alone,  he  may  be  pardoned  if  he  still  Avants 
such  warmth  of  affection  as  so  great  a  good  might 
justly  raise. 

But  till  all  this  be  done,  we  as  vainly  appeal  to 
our  constitutions,  tempers,  and  infirmities  of  our 
state,  as  the  unprofitable  servant  appealed  to  the 
hardness  of  his  niaster,  and  therefore  hid  his  talent 
in  the  earth. 

And  as  it  is  there  said.  Out  of  thine  own  mcuth 
v/iU  I  jndffc  thec^  thou  iriclcd  servant  :  thnu  kneircst 
that  1 7oas  an  austere  man.  See,  Wherefore  then  gavest 
not  thou  my  money  into  the  hank  ?  &c. 

So  we  may  jtlstly  fear  that  we  shall  be  judged 
out  of  our  own  mouths;  for,  if  we  know  the  loving 
God  with  all  our  heart  and  soul,  to  be  so  difl^cult 
to  the  temper  and  infirmities  of  our  nnture,  why 
therefore  do  we  not  remove  every  hinderance,  re- 


UPON    CIIRISTIAX    PEHFF.CTION.  tOt 

nouncc  every  vain  affection,  and  with  double  dili- 
gence practise  all  the  means  of  forming  this  divine 
temper  ?  For  this  we  may  be  assured  of,  that  the 
seeking  happiness  in  the  enjoyments  of  wealth,  is 
as  contrary  to  the  entire  love  of  God,  as  wrapping 
up  the  talent  in  a  napkin  is  contrary  to  improv- 
ing it. 

He  that  has  renounced  the  world,  as  having 
nothing  in  it  that  can  render  him  happy,  will  find 
liis  heart  at  liberty  to  aspire  to  God  in  ihe  highest 
degrees  of  love  and  desire;  he  will  then  know  wdiat 
the  Psalmist  means  by  those  expressions,  My  heart 
is  athirst  for  God  ;  zchen  shall  I  appear  before  the  pre- 
sence  of  God  ? 

And  till  we  do  thus  renounce  the  world,  we  are 
strangers  to  the  temper  and  spirit  of  piety  ;  we  do 
but  act  the  part  of  religion,  and  are  no  more  affected 
with  those  devotions  which  are  put  into  our  mouths, 
than  an  aclor  upon  the  stage  is  really  angry  him- 
self, when  he  speaks  an  angry  speech. 

Religion  is  only  what  it  should  be,  when  its  hap- 
piness has  entered  into  our  soul,  and  filled  our 
hearts  with  its  proper  tempers,  when  it  is  the  settled 
object  of  our  minds,  and  governs  and  affects  us,  as 
worldly  ?ncn  are  affected  with  that  happiness  which 
governs  their  actions. 

The  ambitious  man  naturally  rejoices  at  every 
thing  that  leads  to  his  greatness,  and  as  naturally 
grieves  at  such  accidents  as  oppose  it. 

Good  Chrislians,  that  are  so  wise  as  to  aim  only 
Tiione,  happiness,  will  as  naturally  be  affected  in 
this  mannrr,  with  that  which  promotes  or  hinders 
their  endeavours  after  it. 

For  happii^pss,  in  whatever  it  is  placed,  equally 
governs  tlie  heart  of  him  that  aspires  after  it. 

It  is  therefore  as  necessary  to  renounce  all  the 
satisfaction  of  riches  and  fortune,  and  place  our 
sole  happiness  in  God,  as  it  is  necessary  to  love  hkni 

9*  . 


10-  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

with  all  our  heart,  and  all  our  soul,  with  all  our 
mind,  and  all  our  strength. 

Another  duly,  which  also  proves  the  necessity  of 
this  doctrine,  is  the  love  of  our  neighbour  :  Tfiou 
shall  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself* 

Now  he  that  thinks  he  can  perform  this  duty, 
without  taking  our  Saviour^s  advice  of  forsaking  all. 
and  following  him,  is  as  much  mistaken,  as  if  hf 
imagines  that  he  loves  his  neighbour  as  himself, 
though  he  heaps  up  treasures  for  his  own  self-en- 
joyments and  self-gratifications. 

If  a  man  would  know  what  this  love  of  his  neigh- 
bour implies,  let  him  look  impartiall}^  into  his  own 
heart,  and  sec  what  it  is  that  he  wishes  to  himself, 
and  then  turn  all  those  same  wishes  to  his  neigh- 
bour, and  this  will  make  him  feel  the  just  measure 
of  his  duty,  better  than  any  other  description. 

This  will  also  teach  him,  that  this  true  love  of  his 
neighbour  is  as  inconsistent  with  the  love  of  the 
world,  as  duelling  is  inconsistent  with  meckrrcss  and 
forgiveness  of  injuries. 

This  love  is  a  temper  of  mind  that  suits  only  such 
beings,  as  have  one  common  undhlded  happiness^ 
where  they  cannot  be  rivals  to  one  another  :  now 
this  is  the  state  of  Christians,  who  have  as  truly  one 
common  happiness,  as  they  have  one  common  God  ; 
hut  if  we  put  ourselves  out  of  this  state,  and  project 
for  ourselves  other  felicities  in  the  uncertain  enjoy- 
ments of  this  life,  we  make  ourselves  as  incapable 
of  this  neighbourly  love,  as  wolves  and  bears  jLhat 
live  upon  prey. 

Now  one  common  undivided  happiness  being  the 
«nly  possible  foundation  for  the  practice  of  this 
great  benevolence,  it  is  demonstrable,  that  if  we 
seek  any  other  happiness  t'lan  this,  if  we  do  not 
renounce  all  other  pretensions,  we  cannot  keep 
*?lear  of  such  temper;;,  as  will  show  that  we  do  not 
T©ve  our  neighbour  as  ourselves. 


cpo:;  criRisTiAX  rnnrECTioy.  lO.") 

This  love,  as  has  been  said  of  the  entire  love  of 
(io:l,  is  suited  to  the  state  of  angels,  it  being  not  to 
be  imagined  that  they  hav^  more  benevolence  than 
this  for  one  another  ;  they  can  readily  perform  their 
duty,  because  they  never  vary  from  their  one  tnie 
happiness  ;  and  as  this  makes  it  easy  to  them,  so 
nothing  dan  make  it  possible  for  us,  but  by  imitating 
them,  in  placing  our  only  happiness  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  our  true  good. 

]f  our  happiness  depends  upon  men,  our  tempers 
will  necessarily  depend  upon  men,  and  we  shall  love 
and  hate  people  in  proportion  as  they  help  or  hinder 
us  in  such  happiness. 

This  is  absolutely  necessary,  and  we  can  nevci* 
act  otherwise,  till  we  are  governed  by  a  happiness 
where  no  men  can  make  themselves  our  rivals,  nor 
prevent  our  attainment  of  it. 

When  we  are  in  this  state,  it  will  be  no  harder  to 
love  oiu'  neighl^our  as  ourselves,  than  it  is  to  wish 
them  the  enjoyment  of  the  same  light,  or  the  same 
common  air  ;  for  these,  being  goods  which  may  be 
enjoyed  equally  by  all,  are  not  the  occasion  of 
envy. 

But  whilst  we  continue  eager  competitors  for  the 
imaginary  enjoyments  of  this  life,  we  lay  a  neces- 
sary foundation  for  such  passions,  as  are  all  directly 
contrary  to  the  fruits  of  love. 

I  take  it  for  granted,  that  when  our  Saviour  de- 
livered this  doctrine  of  love,  he  intended  it  should 
be  a  governing  principle  of  our  lives,  it  concerns 
us  therefore,  as  we  have  any  regard  to  our  salvation, 
to  look  carefully  to  ourselves,  and  to  put  ourselves 
in  such  a  state,  as  we  may  be  capable  of  perform- 
ing it. 

Now  in  this  state  we  cannot  be,  till  we  are  con- 
tent to  make  no  more  of  th's  world,  than  a  supply 
of  our  necessities,  and  to  wait  for  rnz  onhj  happiness 
in  the  enjoyment  of  God. 

I  do  not  appeal  to  niggards  and  worldlinp"^ 


104  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

the  proud  and  ambitious,  let  those  who  think  them- 
selves moderate  in  their  worldly  desires  and  enjoy- 
ments, let  such  deal  faithfully  with  their  own 
hearts,  and  see  whether  their  prosecution  of  world- 
ly affairs  permits  them  to  love  all  Christians  as 
themselves. 

Their  moderation  may  perhaps  keep  them  from 
the  bitter  cnvyings  and  hatred  to  which  ambitious 
worldlings  are  subject  ;  but  still  they  have  as  cer- 
tainly, in  their  degree,  and  in  proportion  to  their 
love  of  the  world,  their  cnvyings  and  hatreds,  and 
want  of  sincere  love  as  other  men. 

If  any  one's  heart  can  bear  him  witness,  that  m 
thought,  word,  and  deed,  he  treats  all  men  with  that 
love  which  he  bears  to  himself,  it  must  be  one  whose 
heart  fervently  cries  aut,  with  the  apostle,  God  for- 
bid that  I  should  glory,  save  in  the  cross  of  Jesus  Christy 
by  ruhich  the  iiyorld  is  crucified  unto  me^  and  I  unto  the 
70  or  Id, 

Any  other  glory  than  this,  any  other  use  of  the 
world  than  being  thus  crucified  to  it,  is  inconsistent 
with  this  degree  of  brotherly  love. 

For  a  farther  proof  of  this  truth,  we  nc^d  only 
look  into  the  world,  and  see  the  spirit  that  appears 
amongst  almost  all  Christians. 

We  need  not  go  to  wicked  and  loose  people,  let 
us  go  into  any  virtuous  family  what'-ver,  wc  shall 
find  that  it  has  itsparticular/r/enJs/iTJ^and  hatreds^ 
its  eyivifinss  and  evil  speakmc^s^  and  all  founded  in 
the  interests  and  regards  of  the  world. 

Now  all  this  necessarily  proceeds  from  hence  : 
that  all  Christians  are  busy  in  attending  to  their 
worldly  interests,  intending  onlv  to  keep  clear  of 
dishonest  and  scandalous  pr:ictices,  that  is,  they  use 
the  world  as  far  os  honest  He.aiher.s^-ov  Jt-i-s  would 
do,  and  so  consequently  have  such  tempers  as  Jervs 
and  ILa'hens  have. 

For  it  is  not  only  cheating  and  unlawful  practi- 
ces, but  the  bare  desire  of  worldly  things,  and  the 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    TERFECTIOX.  lOj 

placing  happiness  in  tlicm,  that  hiys  the  fonnclation 
of  ail  these  unchristian  tempers,  that  begets  particu- 
lar friendships  and  enmities,  and  divides  Christians 
into  more  parties  than  there  are  families  amongst 
them. 

Were  there  no  dishonest  persons  amongst  us,  yet 
if  Christians  give  themselves  up  to  the  happiness 
and  enjoyments  of  this  world,  there  would  still  be 
almost  the  same  want  of  the  loving  our  neighbour 
as  ourselves. 

So  that  it  is  purely  the  eng-^ging  so  far  in  the 
world  as  sober  Christians  do,  it  is  their  false  satis- 
faction in  so  many  things  that  they  ought  to  re- 
nounce, it  is  their  being  too  much  alive  to  the 
world,  that  makes  all,  even  the  devout  and  reli- 
gious, subject  to  tempers  so  contrary  to  the  love  of 
their  neighbour. 

How  comes  it,  that  most  people  find  it  so  easy  to 
love,  forgive,  and  pray  for  all  men  at  the  hour  of 
their  death  ?  Is  it  not  because  the  reason  of  enmity, 
envy,  and  dislike,  then  ceases?  All  worldly  interests 
being  then  at  an  end,  all  worldly  tempers  die  away 
with  them. 

Let  this  therefore  teach  us,  that  it  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  die  to  the  world,  if  we  would  live  and 
love  like  Christians. 

I  have  now  done  with  this  subject  of  renoicncing 
the  n'orldi  ^"^^^  ^^^  icorJdJy  tempers*  I  hope  I  have 
been  so  plain  and  clear  upon  it,  as  is  suiTicient  to 
convince  any  serious  reader,  that  it  is  a  doctrine  of 
Jesus  Christ,  that  it  is  the  very  foundation  of  his  re- 
ligion, and  so  nccrssarv,  that  wifhout  it  we  can 
exorcise  no  Christian  temper  in  the  manner  tliat 
we  ought. 

Some  people  have  imagined  that  they  only  re- 
nounce the  world, as  it  ought  to  be  renounced,  who 
reti)-e  to  a  clnisfer^  or  a  monasi try :  but  this  is  as  un- 
reasonable, as  to  make  it  necessary  to  lay  aside  all 
use  of  clothes  to  avoid  the  vanity  of  dress. 


106  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

As  there  is  a  sober  and  reasonable  use  of  particu- 
lar things,  so  there  is  a  sober,  reasonable  use  of  the 
world,  to  which  it  is  lawful  to  conform  as  it  is  law- 
ful to  eat  and  drink. 

They  renounce  the  world  as  they  ought,  who 
live  in  the  midst  of  it  without  worldly  tempers, 
who  comply  with  their  share  in  the  olhces  of  hu- 
man life,  without  complying  with  the  spirit  that 
rcigncth  in  the  world. 

As  it  is  right  to  ^o  (hus  far,  so  it  is  wrong  as  soon 
as  we  take  one  step  farther. 

There  is  nothing  right  in  eating  and  drinking, 
but  a  strict  and  religious  temperance.  It  is  the 
same  thing  in  other  compliances  *  with  the  state  of 
this  life  ;  we  may  dress,  we  may  buy  and  sell,  we 
may  labour,  we  may  provide  for  ourselves  and  fam- 
ilies ;  but  as  these  things  are  only  lawful  for  the 
same  reasons  that  it  is  lawful  to  eat  and  drink,  so 
are  they  to  be  governed  by  the  sam.e  religious 
strictness,  that  is  to  govern  our  eating  and  drinking; 
all  variaticns  ii'ora  this  rule  is  like  glutton}'-  and 
intemperance,  and  fills  our  souls  with  such  tem- 
pers, as  are  all  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  Christ  and 
his  religion. 

The  first  step  that  our  desires  take  beyond  things 
of  necessity,  ranks  us  among  worldlings,  and  raises 
in  our  minds  all  those  tempers  which  disturb  the- 
minds  of  worldly  men. 

You  think  yourself  very  reasonable  and  confor- 
mable to  Christianity,  because  you  are  moderate  in 
your  desires  ;  you  do  not  desire  an  immense  estate, 
you  desire  only  a  little  finery  in  dress,  a  little  state 
in  equipage,  and  only  to  have  things  genteel  about 
you. 

I  answer,  if  this  be  your  case,  you  are  happy  in 
this,  that  you  have  but  little  desires  to  conquer, 
but  if  these  desires  have  as  fast  hold  of  you  as 
greater  desires  have  of  other  people,  you  are  in  the 
same  stale  of  worldly-mindednes'^  that  they  are,  and 
arc  no  more  dead  to  the  world  than  they  that  are: 


VPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTiO^.  107 

fondest  of  it.  A  fondness  for  three  or  four  hundred 
pounds  a  year  is  the  same  slavery  to  the  world,  as 
a  fondness  for  three  or  tour  thousand  ;  and  he  that 
craves  the  happiness  of  little  fineries,  has  no  more 
renounced  the  world  than  he  that  wants  the  splen- 
dor of  a  large  fortune. 

You  hate  the  extravagance  of  dress,  but  if  you 
cannot  depart  from  your  own  little  finery,  you  have  • 
as  much  lo   alter  in  ^^our   heart  as  they  that  like 
none  but  the  finest  of  ornaments. 

Consider  therefore,  that  what  you  call  moderate 
desires,  are  as  ori'eatcontrarietic  s  to  religion  as  those 
which  you  reckon  immoderate,  because  tliey  hold 
the  heart  in  the  same  state  of  false  satisfactions, 
raise  the  same  vain  tempers,  and  do  not  suffer  the 
soul  to  rest  wdiolly  upon  God. 

When  the  spirit  of  religion  is  your  spirit,  when 
heavenly-mindedness  is  your  temper,  when  your 
heart  is  set  upon  God.  you  will  have  no  more  taste 
for  the  vanity  of  one  sort  of  life  than  another. 

Farther,  imagine  to  yourself,  that  if  this  pretence 
in  favour  of  moderate  desires,  and  little  fineries, 
had  been  made  to  our  bl'^ssed  Saviour  wlien  he  was 
upon  earth,  ])reaching  his  doctrines  of  renouncing 
the  world,  and  denying  ourselves. 

I  dare  say  your  own  conscience  tells  you,  that  he 
woj-ld  have  rebuked  the  author  of  such  a  pretence 
with  as  much  indignation  as  he  rebiikcd  Pder^  Get 
thee  hrkind  mc,  Sa^an^  for  thou  scrjourest  not  of  t!ie 
ihin'xs  that  be  of  God, 

Now  the  spirit  of  Christianity  is  the  .-^ame  spirit, 
that  was  in  Christ,  when  he  was  upon  the  earth  ; 
and  if  we  have  reason  to  think  such  a  pretence 
would  have  been  severely  condenmed  by  Christ, 
we  have  the  same  reason  to  be  sure,  that  it  is  a* 
severely  cond'^mned  by  Christianity. 

IT'vl  our  bl  s^ed  Saviour,  a  little  before  he  left  the 
\yoM,  gi'vea  estates  to  his  apostles,  with  a  pcrmis- 


103  A   PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

sion  for  them  to  enjoy  little  fineries,  and  a  mode- 
rate state  in  genteel  show  and  equipage,  he  had 
undone  all  that  he  had  said  of  the  contempt  of  the 
world,  and  heavenly-mindedness,  such  a  pcrmis- 
8ion  had  been  a  contradiction  to  themost  repeated 
and  common  doctrines  that  he  had  taught. 

3  lad  his  apostles  lived  in  such  a  state,  how  could 
they  have  gloried  only  in  the  cross  of  Christ,  hy 
which  the  world  was  crucified  unto  them,  and  they 
unto  the  v/orld  ?  How  could  they  have  said,  Lore 
vol  the  zvorld^nor  the  things  in  the  zcorld^for  all  that 
is  in  the  roorld^  the  lust  of  the  fleshy  the  lust  of  the  eyes, 
and  the  pride  of  life,  is  not  of  the  Father <,  hut  is  of  the 
world  ? 

Had  they  lived  in  a  little  estate,  in  a  moderate 
show  of  figure,  equipage,  and  worldly  delights,  how 
could  they  have  said,  that  she  that  Irctth  in  pleasure 
is  dead  Tvhile  she  liveth  2 

How  could  they  have  said,  that  they  zcho  rinll  he 
rich.,  fall  into  a  temptation  and  a  snare.,  and  into  many 
foolish  and  hurtful  lusts.^  zuhich  drozvn  men  in  destruc- 
^iion  ? 

For  it  is  not  the  desire  of  great  riches,  hut  i»  is 
the  desire  of  I'iches,  and  a  satisfaction  in  ihe  plca- 
awYd  of  them,  that  is  the  snare  and  the  tem])tation  ; 
and  that  fills  men's  minds  with  foolish  and  lun-tful 
lusts,  that  keeps  them  in  the  same  state  of  worldly 
folly,  as  they  are  whose  desires  are  greater. 

Lnstly,  Had  the  aj^ostles  lived  in  that  manner, 
how  could  they  have  said,  that  ichatsctvcr  is  Lorn  of 
God.ovcrcomcth  the  ivorld  ? 

For  certainly  he  v,  ho  is  hnppy  in  the  pleasure 
and  figure  of  a  small  estate,  has  no  more  overcome 
the  world  than  he  that  is  happy  in  the  splendor 
of  one  that  is  greater. 

Thus  therefore  matters  stand  with  relation  to  our 
blessed  Saviour  and  his  apostles :  the  doctrines  they 
taught  made  it  impossible   for   them   to   lake  any 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  105 

p'^rt,  or  seek  any  pleasure,  in  the  show,  and  figure, 
and  riches  of  this  world. 

One  would  think  that  this  one  reflection  was  alone 
sufficient  to  show  us  what  contempt  of  the  world, 
what  heavenly  affection,  we  are  to  aspire  after. 

For  how  blind  and  weak  must  we  be,  if  we  can 
think  that  we  may  live  in  a  spirit  and  temper  which 
could  not  possibly  be  the  spirit  and  temper  of 
Christ  and  his  apostles  ? 

Another  pretence  for  worldly  care,  and  labour 
after  riches,  is  to  provide  for  our  families. 

You  want  to  leave  fortunes  to  your  children,  that 
ihey  may  have  their  share  in  the  Jigure  and  show  of 
the  world.  Now  consider,  do  ymi  do  this  upon 
the  principles  of  religion,  as  the  wisest  and  best 
thing  you  can  do,  either  for  yourself  or  your  chil- 
dren ? 

Can  you  be  said  to  have  chosen  the  one  thing  need* 
fid  for  yourself,  or  the  one  thing  needful  for  them, 
who  make  it  your  chief  care  to  put  them  in  a  state 
of  life,  that  is  a  snare^  and  a  temptation^  and  the  most 
likely  of  all  others,  to  fill  their  minds  v*ith  foolish 
and  hurtful  lusts  ? 

Is  it  your  kindness  towards  them,  that  puts  you 
upon  this  labour  ?  Consider  therefore  what  this 
kindness  is  founded  upon,  perhaps  it  is  such  a  kind- 
ness, as  when  tender  mothers  carry  their  daughters 
to  all  plays  and  balls  ;  such  a  kindness,  as  when  in- 
dulgent fathers  support  their  sons  in  all  the  expense 
of  their  follies,  such  kind  parents  may  more  pro- 
perly be  called  the  tempters  and  bctraijcrs  of  their 
children. 

You  love  your  children,  and  therefore  you  would 
leave  them  rich.  It  is  said  of  our  blessed  Saviour, 
'that  he  loved  the  young  rich  man  that  came  unto 
him,  and,  as  an  instance  of  his  love,  he  ])id  him  sell 
all  that  he  had.  and  give  to  the  poor.  What  a  con- 
trariety is  here?  The  love  which  dwelleth  in  you^ 
is  as  contrary  to  that  love  which  dwelt  in  Christ,  as 
darkness  is  contrary  to  light. 

10 


iiO  A   PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

We  have  our  Saviour's  express  command  to  love 
one  another  as  he  hath  loved  us  ;  and  can  you  think 
that  you  are  following  this  love,  when  you  are 
giving  those  things  to  your  children,  which  he  took 
away  from  his  friends,  and  which  he  could  not  pos- 
sibly have  given  them,  without-contradicting  the 
greatest  part  of  his  doctrines  ? 

But  supposing  that  you  succeed  in  your  inten- 
tions, and  leave  your  children  rich.  What  must  you 
say  to  them  when  you  are  dying  ?  Will  you  then  tell 
them,  that  you  have  the  same  opinion  of  the  great- 
ness and  value  of  riches  that  you  ever  had  ;  that  you 
feel  the  pleasure  of  remembering  how  much  thought 
and  care  you  have  taken  to  get  them  ?  Will  you 
tell  them,  that  you  have  provided  for  their  ease  and 
softness,  their  pleasure  and  indulgence,  and  figure 
in  the  world  ;  and  that  they  cannot  do  better  than 
to  eat  and  drink,  and  take  their  fill  of  such  enjoy- 
ments as  riches  afford  ?  This  would  be  dying  like 
an  atheht* 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  you  will  die  like  a 
good  Christian,  must  you  not  endeavour  to  fill  their 
minds  with  your  dying  thoughts  ?  Must  you  not 
tell  them,  that  they  will  soon  be  in  a  state,  when 
the  world  will  signify  no  more  to  them  than  it  does 
to  you  ;  and  that  there  is  a  deceitfnlness,  a  vanity, 
a  littleness,  in  the  things  of  this  life,  Avhich  only 
dying  men  feel  as  they  ought  ? 

Will  you  not  tell  them,  that  all  your  own  failings, 
irregularity  of  your  life,  your  defects  in  devotion, 
the  folly  of  your  tempers,  the  strength  of  your  pas- 
sions, and  your  failure  in  christian  perfection,  has 
been  all  owing  to  wrong  opinions  of  the  value  of 
worldly  things  ;  and  that  if  you  had  always  seen 
the  world  iw  the  same  light  in  which  you  see  it  now, 
your  life  had  been  devoted  to  God,  and  you  would 
have  lived  in  all  (hosLc  holy  tempers  and  heavenly 
affections,  in  which  you  now  desire  to  die  ? 

Will  you  not  tell  them,  that  it  is  the  enjoyment 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  Ill 

of  the  world  that  corrupts  the  hearts  and  })linds 
the  minds  of  all  people,  and  that  the  only  way  to 
know  what  good  there  is  in  devotion^  what  excel- 
lence there  is  in  piety,  what  wisdom  in  holiness^ 
what  happiness  in  heavenly  affection,  what  vanity  in 
this  life.)  and  what  greatness  in  eternili/,  is  to  die  to 
the  world  and  all  worldly  tempers  ? 

Will  you  not  tell  them,  that  riches  spent  upon 
ourselves,  cither  in  the  pleasures  of  ease  and  indul- 
gence., in  the  vanity  of  dress,  or  the  show  of  state  and 
equipage,  are  the  bane  and  destruction  of  our  souk, 
making  us  blindly  content  with  dreams  of  happiness, 
till  death  awakes  us  into  real  misery  ? 

From  this  therefore  it  appears,  that  your  kind- 
ness for  your  children,  is  so  far  from  being  a  good 
reason  why  you  should  so  carefully  labour  to  leave 
them  rich,  and  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  state  and 
shozv  of  the  world,  that  if  you  die  in  a  spirit  of  pietj^ 
if  you  love  them  as  Christ  loved  his  disciples,  your 
kindness  will  oblige  you  to  exhort  them  to  renounce 
all  self-enjoyment  of  riches,  as  contrary  to  those 
holy  tempers,  and  that  heavenly  affection,  whicJi 
you  now  find  to  be  the  only  good  and  happiness  ot 
human  nature. 


CHAP.  VI. 

Christianity  calleth  all  Men  to  a  Stale  of  Self-dcniid 
and  Mortification* 

CHRISTIANITY  is  a  doctrine  of  the  cross,  that 
leaches  the  restoration  of  mankind  to  the  favour  of 
God,  by  the  death  and  sacrificv'  of  Jcbus  Christ. 

This  being  the  foundation  of  the  Christian  reli- 
gion, it  shows  us,  that  all  persons,  who  will  act  con- 
formably to  the  nature  and  reason  of  Christianity, 
must  make  themselves  sufferers  for  sin. 

For  i-f  there  is  a  reasonableness  between  sin  anci 


112  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

suffering,  every  Christian  acts  against  the  reason  of 
things  that  does  not  endeavour  to  pay  some  part  o£ 
that  debt  which  is  due  to  sin. 

Indeed  it  would  be  strange  to  suppose,  that  man- 
kind were  redeemed  by  the  sufferings  of  their  Sa- 
viour, to  live  in  ease  and  softness  themselves  ;  that 
suffering  should  be  the  necessary  atonement  for  sin^ 
and  yet  that  sinn&rs  should  be  excused  from  suf' 
ferings* 

Such  an  high-priesf  hecame  us^  says  the  apostle,  rvko- 
is  hely^  harmhs^^  unchy^d,  separate  from  sinncn^. 

Kow  if  the  holiness  of  Chrij^t  rendered  his  sacrifice 
acceptable  to  God,  does  not  this  teach  us  that  we 
must  labour  to  be  holy,  in  order  to  be  accepted  of 
God? 

But  is  there  not  the  same  reason,  and  the  same 
example  in  the  sufferings  Of  Christ  ?  If  they  made 
God  more  propitious  to  sin,  must  we  not  as  wxll 
take  this  w^ay  of  suffering,  to  make  ourselves  fitter 
objects  of  divine  pardon  ? 

There  is  therefore  the  same  reason,  in  the  nature 
of  the  thing,  for  us  sinners  to  endeavour  to  conform 
ourselves  to  the  sufferings,  as  to  labour  after  the 
holiness  of  Christ,  since  they  both  jointly  conspired 
to  recommend  the  great  atonement  for  sin,  and  must 
jointly  conspire  to  render  us  proper  objects  of  the 
benefits  of  it. 

Nor  is  the  sinless  state  of  Christ  a  better  reason 
for  us  to  avoid  and  flee  from  sin,  than  his  suffering 
state  is  a  reason  for  renouncing  all  softness  and  in- 
dulgence in  pleasures. 

Had  Christ  wanted  eitlier  holiness  or  sufferings, 
his  sacrifice  had  been  wanting  in  an  essential  part. 
If  therefore  we  think  to  be  accepted  of  God  by  holi- 
ness, without  suffering,  we  seem  to  contradict  the 
nature  of  our  religion  as  much^a*  if  we  thought  ta 
be  accepted  through  sutlerings  without  holiness. 

It  may  perhnps  be  said,  in  the  w^ords  of  our 
IJturgy,  Thai  Christ,  havivg  hy  his  021^71  oblation  q^' 


UPON   CHRISTIAN    PERFECTIGN.  11^ 

lihnself  once  offered,  made  a  full,  perfect,  and  suffi- 
cient sacrifice,  oblation,  and  satisfaction,  for  the  sins  of 
the  ivhole  icorld.  Christians  have  no  occasion  to 
make  any  sufferings  for  sin. 

To  this  it  may  be  answered, 

That  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  is  full  and  sufficient  ; 
first,  as  it  takes  away  the  necessity  of  all  the  legal 
sacrifices :  secondly,  as  it  has  no  need  to  be  repeat- 
ed again  :  and  thirdly,  as  it  fully  reconciles  God  to 
accept  of  us  upon  the  terms  of  the  new  covenant. 

Now  there  is  no  occasion  to  suffer  for  sin,  in 
order  to  make  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  more  coinplete, 
or  to  add  a  further  value  to  the  atonement  for  sin  ; 
but  then  it  is  to  be  considered,  that  if  self-suffering 
for  sin  be  a  good  and  reasonable  duty  in  itself,  ana" 
proper  for  a  sinner,  that  the  fulness  of  Christ's 
sacrifice  has  no  more  taken  away  the  necessity  of 
it,  than  it  has  taken  away  the  necessity  of  humility, 
or  any  other  virtue. 

Christ  is  as  well  said  to  be  our  sanctification,  our 
holiness  and  i-ighteonsness,  as  our  atonement  for  sin  ; 
yet  "we  should  much  mistake  the  Scripture,  if  w^e 
shou^  think,  that  because  he  is  our  holiness,  there- 
fore we  need  not  endeavour  to  be  holy  ourselves. 

Yet  this  is  as  good  a  conclusion,  as  to  imagine, 
that  we  need  not  suflcr  for  our  sins  ourselves,  be- 
cause Christ's  sufferings  are  a  full  atonement  for  sin. 

For  they  are  no  other.vise  a  sufficient  atonement 
for  sin,  than  as  Christ  is  our  sufticinit  holiness ;  so  that 
we  may  as  well  trust  to  his  holiness,  without  labour- 
ing to  be  holy  ourselves,  as  trust  to  his  sufferings, 
withoirt  making  ourselves  also  sufferers  for  sin. 

Let  it  now  therefore  be  observed,  that  were  there 
no  partic\ilar  precepts  or  doctrines,  that  expressly 
called  us  to  a  state  of  self-denial  and  self-suffering, 
the  vrrv  nature  of  relicrion  is  an  undeniable  argu- 
ment, that  the  w^ay  of  suffering  is  the  ri^'ht  and  cer- 
tain way  for  sinners  to  find  God  more  propitious  to 
their  sin. 

10* 


114  A     PRACTICAL    Tft£ATl?£ 

He  that  can  doubt  of  this,  must  suppose,  that 
God  required  a  way  of  atonement  in  Jesus  Christ, 
that  had  nothing  of  atonement  in  it  ;  for  if  it  had,  if 
must  be  undeniable,  that  all,  who,  as  far  as  their 
natures  will  allow,  conform  themselves  to  the  simi- 
litude of  Christ's  sacriiiee,  must  make  themselves 
more  acceptable  to  God. 

That  Christ's  sufferings  have  not  made  all  other 
sufferings  for  sin  needless,  is  plain  from  hence  ;  that 
all  ChristiaPJ5  are  still  left  subject  to  death  ;  for 
surely  it  may  with  truth  be  affirmed,  that  death  is  a 
suffering  for  sin. 

Now  since  ail  Christians  are  to  offer  up  their 
bodies  at  death,  as  a  sacrifice  or  suffering  for  sin, 
this  plainly  teaches  us,  that  a  state  of  self-denial 
and  suffering  is  the  proper  state  of  this  life  :  for 
surely  it  must  be  proper  to  make  every  part  of  our 
life  suitable  to  such  an  tnd». 

Does  God  unmake  us,  and  dash  our  very  form 
into  pieces,  and  can.  we  think  that  a  life  of  pleasure 
and  self-indulgence  can  become  us  under  such  a 
sentence  ? 

What  plainer  proof  can  we  have,  that  we  are  de-- 
voted  sufferers  for  sin,  than  that  we  are  devoted  to 
death  ?  For  death  hath  no  place  in  a  state  of  allowed 
pleasure  and  enjoyment.  When  the  suffering  for 
sin  is  over,  there  will  be  no  more  death  ;  but  so  long 
as  death  lasts,  so  long  are  all  beings  that  are  subject 
to  death,  in  a  state  that  requires  humiliation  and' 
suffering  ;  and  they  rebel  against  God,  if  they  do 
not  make  their  lives  conformable  to  that  mark  of 
divine  displeasure,  which  death  signifies. 

Thus  as  the  mortality  of  our  condition  is  a  certain 
proof  that  our  life  is  in  disorder^  and  unacctptahle  to 
God,  so  is  it  also  a  proof,  that  we  ought  to  refuse 
pleasures  and  satisfactions,  which  are  the  pleasures 
of  a  state  of  disorder,  and  stay  for  joy  and  delights 
lill  we  are  removed  to  such  a  state  of  perfection,  as 
God  will  delight  to  continue  to  all  eternity. 


t'PON    CHRISTIAN    i^ERFECTIO.V.  115 

The  aposllc  tells  us,  that  Jlesh  and  blood  cannot 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  must  we  not  thercforo 
be  very  unreasonable,  if  we  can  cast  about  for 
mirth  in  such  a  condition,  or  give  up  ourselves  to 
the  vain  pleasures  and  indulgences  of  a  flesh  and 
blood,  which  are  too  corrupt,  too  unholy  to  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  God  ? 

This  iiiay  suifice  to  show  us  the  excellency  and 
reasonableness  of  our  Saviour's  doctrine. 

He  sdid  unto  tliem  ally  if  any  man  will  come  after 
7?ie,  let  him  deny  himself  take  up  his  cross  daily,  and 
folloiD  me» 

For  lohosoever  zuill  save  his  life  shall  lose  it,  and 
ichosoever  will  lose  his  life  for  my  sake^  the  same  shall 
save  if» 

Here  is  a  common  condition  proposed  to  all  that 
would  be  Christ's  disciples,  they  are  called  to  deny 
themselves,  and  take  up  their  cross  daily.  To  show 
us  that  this  belongs  to  all  Christians,  the  apostle 
saith,  He  said  unto  them  all ;  SuMark  hath  it  thus, 
And  ivhen  he  had  called  the  people  unto  him,  zoith  his- 
disciples  also,  he  said  unlo  them. 

The  church  of  Rome  refuses  to  give  the  cup  in 
the  holy  sacrament  to  the  laity.  We  reckon  it  a 
very  good  argumpnt  against  that  custom,  that  our 
Saviour,  when  he  delivered  the  cup,  said  unto  theni, 
Drink  ye  all  of  this » 

Now  if  it  be  an  argument  that  all  Christians  are 
to  receive  the  cup,  because  in  the  institution  of  the 
sacrament  it  is  said.  Drink  ye  all  of  this^  is  it  not  as 
good  an  argument  that  all  Christians  are  here  called 
to  deny  themselves,  and  take  up  their  cross  daily, 
because  it  is  delivered  in  the  s-une  manner,  He  said 
unto  them  all ;  and  again,  When  he  ca'ted  the  pe<ph 
unto  him^  icith  Jus  dtso'plcs  «/.«-■'=,  he  said  unto  them  ? 

To  mo  this  place  seeuis  as  general  a  call  to  all 
Christians,  as.  Drink  ye  aU,  of  this,  is  a  general  com- 
mand to  all  Christians. 

Let  any  one  try  to  evade  the  obligation  of  tliis 


IIG  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

text,  and  he  will  find  that  he  must  use  such  argu- 
ments, as  will  equally  serve  to  get  rid  of  any  other 
part  of  holy  Scripture. 

If  this  passage  only  called  the  first  disciples  of 
Christ  to  an  external  state  of  sufferings  and  perse- 
cutions from  other  people,  it  might  with  some  pre- 
tence be  supposed  only  to  relate  to  people,  when 
they  are  in  such  a  state  of  persecution. 

But  as  it  calls  them  to  deny  themselves^  to  take  up 
•their  cross  daily,  it  is  plain,  that  it  calls  them  to  a 
suffering  and  self-denial  which  they  were  to  inflict 
upon  themselves. 

Now  if  they  are  thus  called  to  deny  themselves, 
and  subject  themselves  to  a  voluntary  cross,  in  or- 
der to  be  Christ's  disciples,  it  Avill  be  hard  to  show 
that  self-denials  are  not  as  lasting  terms  of  Chris- 
tianity, as  baptism  and  the  Lord's  supper. 

Water-baptism  is  necessary,  because  our  Saviour 
has  instituted  it,  and  the  reason  for  continuing  it  is 
the  same  as  for  observing  it  at  first.  But  still  it  is 
but  an  external  rite  or  sacrament,  which,  in  its  own 
nature,  hath  nothing  relating  to  holiness  and  purifi- 
cation of  the  soul,  but  has  all  its  excellency  from 
the  institution  of  Christ. 

This  cannot  be  said  of  these  kinds  of  sufferings, 
for  they  have  an  internal  and  essential  relation" to 
holiness  and  purification  in  the  present  state  of 
man. 

I  say  in  the  present  state  of  man,  because  though 
these  self-denials  or  mortifications  are  ojily  proper 
to  man  whilst  he  is  in  this  state  of  corruption,  yet 
th'^y  are  as  true  parts  of  holmess,  and  as  essential 
virtues,  as  those  which  will  last  for  ever. 

Charity  to  the  poor  is  founded  in  the  necessities 
and  infirmities  of  this  lifV,  yet  it  is  as  real  a  degree 
of  holiness,  and  as  much  to  be  performed  for  its 
own  sake  as  that  charity  which  will  never  have  ant 
end. 

It  is  the  same  in  these  self-denials,  they  only 


U4*0N    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  11? 

belong  to  a  state  of  sin,  but  whilst  such  a  state  con- 
tinues they  are  the  indispensable  duty  of  sinners, 
and  as  necessary  and  acceptable  to  God  as  reliev- 
ing the  poor. 

This  must  be  allowed,  or  we  must  deny  that  ther6 
was  any  real  atonement  for  sin  in  the  sufterings  and 
death  of  Christ ;  for  if  there  was  any  real  atonement 
in  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  if  his  sutlerings  rendered 
God  propitious  and  reconciled  to  sinners,  it  is  undc-. 
niable,  that  all  who  suffer  with  the  same  spirit  that 
Christ  suffered,  must  in  their  degree  recommend 
themselves  to  the  favour  of  God,  on  the  same  ac- 
count, and  for  the  same  reasons,  that  the  sufterings 
of  Christ  procured  peace  and  reconciliation. 

If  Christ,  the  Lord  of  all,  and  head  of  the  church, 
is  still  making  intercession  for  us  at  the  right  hand 
of  God,  does  not  this  plainly  teach  us,  that  we  can- 
not be  accepted  by  God,  unless  we  live  in  a  state  of 
supplication  and  prayer  for  ourselves  ? 

And  if  he,  who  had  no  sin  of  his  own,  was  obli-^ 
ged  to  such  sufferings,  to  make  himself  to  be  heard 
as  an  advocate  for  sinners,  surely  sinners  themselves 
cannot  presume  to  sue  for  their  own  pardon,  with- 
out putting  themselves  in  the  like  state  of  humilia- 
tion and  suffering.  For  since  the  atonement  is 
made  by  sufterings,  this  as  truly  recommends  suf- 
ferings to  sinners,  as  if  it  had  been  made  by  prayer, 
that  would  have  shown  the  w^ay  of  prayer  to  have 
been  the  way  of  finding  pardon. 

Self-denial,  therefore,  and  sufferings,  are  duties 
essential  to  the  present  state  of  sin,  and  recommend 
us  to  God,  as  holiness  and  purity  recommend  us,  by 
their  own  nature,  and  intrinsic  fitness,  that  is,  they 
are  good,  as  prayer,  humility,  anct  charity  are^ 
good. 

When  we  shall  be  removed  to  a  state  that  is  free 
from  sin,  self-denial  and  mortification  will  then  be 
no  part  of  our  duty,  but  so  long  as  this  state  of  sin 
lasts,  so  lonq;  do^s  t]\c  neccssitv  and  reason  af  selir- 


118  A  PRACTICAL  TRBATI6E 

denial  and  mortification  last ;  they  are  as  necessary 
as  prayers  and  devotion,  and  are  as  truly  essential 
parts  of  holiness,  as  charity  and  humility. 

For  repentance  and  sorrow  for  sin  is  as  necessary 
to  a  being  in  a  state  of  sin,  as  necessary  on  its  own 
account,  and  from  the  nature  of  the  thing,  as  the 
love  of  God  is  necessary  for  a  being  that  receives 
all  his  happiness  from  God. 

For  to  express  our  indignation,  and  inflict  punish- 
ment on  that  which  displeases  God,  is  as  reasona- 
ble in  itself,  and  as  much  an  act  of  holiness  as  to 
love  and  cherish  that  which  God  loves.  So  that  all 
our  self-denials,  as  punishments  of  sin,  as  expres- 
sions of  sorrow  for  guilt,  and  as  preventions  of 
temptation,  may  be  considered  as  so  many  instan- 
ces of  our  love  of  purity. 

While  therefore  we  continue  in  a  state  of  cor- 
ruption, it  is  as  necessary  that  we  continue  in  a 
state  of  repentance,  self-denial,  and  sorrow,  as  it  is 
necessary  to  continue  our  desires  and  endeavours 
after  purity: 

If  we  can  find  a  time  when  we  have  no  sin  to 
lament,  no  occasion  for  the  severities  of  repentance, 
it  may  be  granted,  that  that  would  be  a  time  for 
the  abstaining  from  self-denial,  and  voluntary  suf- 
ferings. 

But  if  human  life  knows  of  no  such  season  ;  if 
we  can  never  look  at  ourselves,  but  under  the 
weight  of  sin,  it  is  a  demonstration,  that  indignation 
at  ourselves,  and  a  voluntary  suflering  for  sin,  is 
the  necessary  constant  state  of  Christians. 

Indeed  if  it  be  allowed  that  repentance  and  sor- 
row for  sin  is  necessary,  and  that  it  ought  to  be  the 
constant  habit  of  a  Christian's  mind,  till  this  life  be 
at  an  end,  we  need  no  stronger  proof  of  the  conr 
stant  necessity  of  self-denial  and  mortification. 

For  what  reason  can  there  be  for  sorrow  and. 
grief  for  sin,  which  is  not  the  same  reason  for  self- 
fjenial,  and  the  daily  cross  ?  Is  not  grief  and  sorroyi 


VPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFEGTIOX.  J  19 

for  sin  a  sujprlng  and  pumshmcnt  for  sin  7  Or  can 
we  grieve  and  atiiict  ourselves  for  our  sins,  unless 
we  express  that  grief  by  a  hearty  indignation  and 
real  self-denial  ? 

If  therefore  we  consider  the  reason  and  fitness  of 
repentance,  we  see  the  reason  and  fitness  of  self- 
denial  and  voluntary  suifcrings  ;  and  consequently 
we  must  acknowledge  that  these  self-denials  are 
not  less  necessary,  nor  less  recommended  to  us, 
than  repentance  and  sorrow  for  sin. 
,  For  since  they  are  of  the  same  nature,  and  for 
the  same  end,  and  also  essential  to  true  repentance, 
it  follow^s,  that  all  Christians  are  obliged  to  be  as 
constant  in  their  self-denials  and  mortidcations,  as 
they  are  to  be  constant  in  their  repentance. 

Because  such  voluntary  sufferings  have  the  same 
essential  relation  to  holiness,  that  charity  and  the 
love  of  God  have. 

For  though  charity  and  the  love  of  God  will 
never  cease,  but  this  self-denial  will  have  an  end  j 
yet  is  this  self-denial,  during  this  state  of  sin,  as 
essential  to  the  holiness  of  persons  in  such  a  state 
as  any  other  virtue. 

It  being  the  same  degree  of  inward  purify,  and 
as  right  a  spirit  and  temper  to  mourn  and  afflict 
ourselves  for  our  sins,  as  to  love  that  which  God 
loves,  or  be  thankful  for  his  mercies. 

Now  if  a  person  was  to  give  himself  up  to  sorroro 
in  a  state  of  happiness^  or -to  unthankfulness,  though 
in  the  midst  of  mercies,  he  would  act  just  as  imrea- 
sonably,  just  as  contrary  to  the  nature  of  thin^^s  avS 
he  that  gives  himself  up  to  pleasures  and  indulgen- 
ces   in  a  state  of  corruption  and  sin. 

Let  it  therefore  be  carefully  observed,  that  self- 
denial  and  mortification  are  only  o'her  words  for 
repentance  and  sorrow  for  sin,  and  he  that  can  dis- 
tinguish them  one  from  another,  may  distinguish 
grief  from  sorrow. 

He  therefore,  that  can  doubt  whether  Chri.^tiLin3 


i20  A    PRACTICAL  TREATISE 

nre  called  to  a  daily  practice  of  self-denial,  seem> 
TO  know  as  little  of  true  religion,  as  if  he  doubted 
whether  they  were  calkd  to  a  daily  repentance ;  for 
when  we  may  live  in  a  state  contrary  to  repen- 
tance, then,  and  then  only,  may  we  live  in  a  state 
contrary  to  self-deniaL 

Let  a  Christian  ever  cease  from  self-denial,  let 
hin.  ever  forbear  the  mortification  of  his  appetites, 
and  at  that  time  he  ceases  to  consider  himself  as  a 
sinner,  and  behaves  himself  as  though  he  were  then 
free  from  the  guilt  and  danger  of  sin. 

But  as  he  never  is  in  this  state  of  freedom,  so  if 
he  acts  as  if  he  were  ^o,  he  acts  as  falsely  as  if  he 
took  himself  to  be  an  angel. 

There  is,  therefore,  as  much  reason,  that  the  daily 
cross^  or  self-denial^  should  be  imposed  upon  Chris- 
tians as  a  daily  prayer  or  repentance,  and  there  is 
the  same  impiety,  the  same  false  judgment  in  refu- 
sing a  daily  self-denial,  as  in  refusing  or  ceasing 
from  a  daily  devotion  and  sorrow  for  sin. 

For  a  man  may  as  well  imagine  that  he  prays,  or 
gives  thanks  to  God,  when  he  only  repeals  the 
words  of  a  jirayer  or  thanksgiving,  as  that  he  re- 
pents for  his  sins,  unless  his  repentance  be  a  real 
punishment,  a  true  state  of  mortification. 

We'may  now  observe,  that  this  docti-ine  of  self- 
suffering  is  founded  upon  the  most  important  fun- 
damental articles  of  our  religion. 

If  we  consider  our  redemption  as  an  atonement 
made  by  suffering,  does  not  this  show  us  the  neces" 
sity  of  seeking  pardon  by  a  fellowship  in  the  suf- 
ferings of  Christ  ? 

Need  we  any  other  argument,  that  there  is  no 
state  so  suitable  to  a  sinner  as  that  of  suliering^ 
when  God  has  appointed  suflbrings  as  the  atone- 
ment for  sin  ? 

If  we  consider  that  we  are  devoted  to  death,  ond 
under  a  necessity  of  falling  into  dust,  as  a  sacrifice 
for   sin,  docs   not   this   leach  us  the  necessity  of 


tVoK    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  lt\ 

leaking  our  life  conformable  I    ihe  intention  of  such 
a  death  ? 

For  could  there  be  any  necessity  that  we  sliould 
die  as  a  saCriiice  for  sin,  if  we  might  lead  a  life  of  a 
contrary  nature  ?  Or  could  we  act  more  contrary 
to  God,  than  by  making  that  life  a  state  of  pleasure 
and  indulgence,  which  he  has  laid  under  the 
curse  of  death  ?  Ought  we  to  indulge  a  hfe,  which 
God  considers  as  too  unholy  to  continue  in  being  ? 
Lastly,  If  we  consider  that  repentance  is  the 
chief,  the  most  constant  and  perpetual  duty  of  a 
Christian,  that  our  holiness  has  hardly  any  other 
existence  than  what  arises  from  a  perpetual  repen- 
tance, can  it  be  doubted  that  mortiiication  and  self* 
denial  are  essential,  perpetual  parts  of  our  duty  ? 

For  to  suppose  a  repentance  without  the  pain  of 
■mortification,  and  the  punishment  of  self-denial,  is 
as  absurd  as  to  suppose  a  labour  after  holiness, 
which  takes  not  one  step  towards  it. 

For  if  repentnnce  be  not  an  exercise  of  mortifi- 
-cation  and  self-denial,  it  is  no  more  a  state  of  repen- 
tance, than  the  lifting  up  o\u"  hands  without  our 
hearts  is  a  state  of  prayer  and  de\x)tion. 

Repentance  is  a  fcarty  sorrow  for  sin  ;  sorrow  is 
a  pain  or  punishment,  which  we  are  obliged  to 
raise  to  as  high  a  degree  as  we  can,  that  we  may 
-be  fitter  objects  of  God's  pardon. 

So  that  self-denial  and  mortification  is  only  ano- 
ther word  for  a  real  repentance. 

If  Christians  will  still  so  far  t'orget  the  nature 
and  design  of  their  religion,  as  to  imagine  that  our 
Saviour's  call  to  a  daily  cross  and  self-denial,  was 
only  a  call  to  his  first  disciples  to  expect  sufierings 
and  death  from  their  enemies  ;  they  are  governed 
by  as  little  reason,  as  if  they  should  think,  Pepcnf 
ye.  for  the  kinprdnni  nf  heaven  is  af  hancl,  only  obliged 
-tliose  to  repentance,  who  first  entered  into  the  king- 
dom of  God. 

11 


}2^  A     PRAGTICAL    TREATISE 

For  there  is  notliii^^-  in  the  nature  of  repcntaneip 
tliat  shows  it  to  be  a  more  constant  duty,  or  more 
essential  to  the  Christian  life,  than  there  is  in  this 
mortilication  and  self-suffering. 

It  is  also  very  absurd  to  suppose,  that  a  com- 
mand to  deny  themselves,  and  take  up  their  own 
cross  daily,  should  mean  only  the  enduring  and 
expecting  of  sufferings  from  others. 

Let  us  now  suppose  the  contrary,  that  Christians 
are  not  called  to  this  state  of  mortification,  or  de- 
nial of  their  appetites.  Let  us  suppose  that  Chris- 
tian churches  are  full  of  fine  g^y  people,  who  spend 
their  days  in  all  the  pleasures  and  indulgences 
which  the  spirit  of  the  world  can  invent. 

Can  it  in  any  sense  be  said  of  such,  that  they  live 
in  a  state  of  repentance  and  sorrow  for  sin  ?  May 
they  not,  with  as  much  regard  to  truth,  be  said  to 
live  in  sackcloth  and  ashes  ?  Can  their  hearts  feel 
any  sorrow,  or  be  mourning  for  the  weight  and 
luisery  of  sin,  who  live  only  to  the  studied  enjoy- 
ments of  ease  and  pleasure  ?  Can  they  be  said  to 
grieve  at  guilt,  or  be  afraid  of  sin,  who  pamper  all 
their  appetites,  and  seek  all  the  enjoyments  that 
lead  to  temptation  ?  Can  they,  who  live  in  the 
gratifications  of  the  flesh,  and  scenes  of  pleasure,  be 
said  to  be  working  out  their  salvation  zcith  fear  and 
IrcmhUn^  ?  May  they  not  as  justly  be  said  to  be 
walking  bare-foot  to  Jerusalem  ? 

If  therefore  w^e  will  not  destroy  the  whole  state 
of  religion,  if  we  will  but  own  it  to  be  a  stale  of 
irial  and  probation^  we  must  also  allow,  that  self- 
denial  and  abstinence  from  pleasures  are  daily 
essential  duties  of  it. 

For  a  life  of  sorrow  for  sin,  and  mourning  for  the 
guilt  of  it,  and  a  life  of  pleasure  and  indtilirence,  arc 
inconsistent  states,  and  as  necessarily  destroy  one 
another,  as  motion  puts  an  end  (o  rest. 

Repentance  will  have  no  place  in  lieaven  because 
that  will  be  a  state  of  perfection  ;  and  for  the  satne 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  12.^ 

reason  it  ought  never  to  be  laid  aside  on  earth,  be- 
cause there  is  no  time  when  we  are  not  under  the- 
guih,  and  subject  to  the  danger  of  sin. 

This  does  not  suppose,  that  we  are  always  to  be 
uttering /orm5  of  confeesion  from  our  mouths  ;  but 
it  supposes,  that  we  are  always  to  live  with  so  much 
watchfulness  as  becomes  penitent  sinners,  and  never 
do  any  thing,  but  what  highly  suits  with  a  state  of 
repentance. 

So  that  whenever  we  can  abate  oiu-  self-denials, 
without  abating  our  sorrow  for  sin,  when  we  can 
find  pleasures  that  neither  soften  the  mind,  nor  make 
it  less  fearful  of  temptation  ;  then,  and  so  far  only, 
may  we  seek  our  ease. 

For  repentance,  whilst  it  is  only  a  lip-work  at 
stated  times,  is  nothing ;  it  has  not  had  its  effect,  till 
it  has  entered  into  the  state  and  habit  of  our  lives, 
and  rendered  us  as  fearful  of  sin  in  every  part  of 
our  lives,  as  when  we  are  making  our  confessions. 

Now  this  state  of  penitence,  which  alone  is  suited 
to  a  state  of  corruption  and  infirmity,  can  no  more 
exist  without  constant  daily  self-denial,  than  we  can 
daily  govern  our  appetites,  without  daily  looking 
after  them. 

To  proceed  :  Our  Saviour  saith.  Blessed  are  they 
that  mourn^for  they  shall  he  comforted. 

Now  this  is  another  direct  call  to  self-denial,  and 
abstinence  from  pleasures,  as  must  appear  to  every 
one  that  knows  mourning  to  be  different  from  plea- 
sure and  indulgence. 

The  blessedness  that  is  here  ascribed  to  mourn- 
ing, must  be  understood  in  relation  to  mourning,  as 
it  is  a  state  of  life,  and  not  as  to  any  transient  acts, 
or  particular  times  of  mourning. 

For  no  actions  are  valuable  or  rewardable,  but  as 
they  arise  from  a  state  or  temper  of  mind  that  is 
constant  and  habitual. 

If  it  had  been  said.  Blessed  are  the  charitable,  it 
must  have  meant,  Blessed  are  they  who  live  in  a 


1^4  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

state  and  habit  of  charity.  For  the  same  reason,  are 
we  to  understand  the  blessedness,  which  is  due  ta 
mourning,  to  be  only  due  to  a  state  and  life  of 
mournins:. 

Secondly,  Blessed  are  they  that  mourn^  shows  us, 
that  this  mourning  concerns  all  men  as  such,  with-* 
out  any  distinction  of  time  or  persons  ;  so  that  its 
(Excellency  and  fitness  must  be  founded  upon  some* 
thing  that  is  common  and  constant  to  all  times  and 
■r\\\  y)crsons.  For  if  there  was  any  time  when  we 
might  change  this  state  of  mourning,  or  were  there 
\mj  persons  that  might  }3C  excused  from  it,  it  could 
not  be  said  in  general,  Blessed  are  they  that  mourn. 

If  therefore  this  mourning  be  a  reasonable  and 
excellent  temper,  that  equally  leads  all  orders  of 
men  to  blessedness,  its  reasonableness  must  be 
founded  in  the  common  state  and  condition  of  man  j- 
that  is,  if  mourning  be  good  for  all  men,  it  must  be 
because  the  state  and  condition  of  all  men,  as  such, 
requires  mourning. 

But  if  this  mourning  be  founded  in  the  present 
state  of  man,  as  suitable  to  his  condition  in  this  life, 
it  must  be  always  the  same  excellent  and  proper 
temper,  till  death  changes  his  state,  nnd  puts  him  in 
a  condition  that  requires  another  temper. 

Now  what  can  this  state  of  mourning  be.  but  a 
godly  sorrow  founded  upon  a  true  sense  and  feeling 
of  the  misery  of  our  state,  as  it  is  a  state  of  fallen 
spirits^  living  in  sin  and  vanity,  and  separation  from 
God  ? 

What  can  it  be,  but  a  ceasing  to  enjoy,  and  rejoice 
in,  the  false  goods  and  eniovments  of  this  life,  be- 
cause they  delude  and  corrupt  our  hearts,  increase 
our  blindness,  and  ^ink  us  deeper  in  our  distance 
from  Cod  ? 

Whnt  mournino:  can  be  blo.^sed,  but  such  as 
mourns  at  that  which  disnleosrs  God,  which  con« 
demns  nnd  rejects  whnt  the  wisdom  of  God  rejects, 
which  loosens  us  from  the  vanity  of  the  world,  les- 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PfiRP^CTlOl??.  125 

s-cns  the  weight  of  our  corruption,   and  quickens 
our  motions  and  aspirings  towards  perfection  ? 

This  is  not  a  mourninsr  that  shows  itself  in  occa- 
sional  Jits  or"  sorrow,  or  dejection  of  mind  ;  but  it  is 
a  reguUir  temper,  or  rather  a  right  judgment,  which 
refuses  pleasures,  that  are  not  only  the  pleasures  of 
a  corrupted  state,  but  such  as  also  increase  and 
strengthen  our  corruption. 

One  constant  property  of  a  true  mourning,  i« 
abstinence  from  pleasures  ;  and  we  generally  reck- 
on a  sorrow  very  near  its  end,  when  diversions  and 
amusements  begin  to  be  relished. 

This  mourning  therefore  to  which  this  blessedness 
IS  ascribed,  must  be  a  constant  abstinence  from 
vain  joys  ;  it  must  preserve  itself  by  rejecting  and 
disrelishing  all  those  worldly  delip;hts  and  satisfac- 
tions, which,  if  admitted,  would  put  an  end  to  its 
state  of  mourning. 

Now  what  is  all  this,  but  that  state  of  self-denial 
and  daily-cross^  to  which  our  Saviour  called  his 
disciples  ? 

For  we  may  imagine  any  thing,  if  we  can  imag- 
ine that  a  state  of  religious  mourning  is  not  a  state 
of  religious  self-denial » 

Unless  therefore  w^e  will  say,  that  the  blessed- 
ness of  mourning  was  also  only  preached  to  Christ's 
Tirst  followers  ;  we  n-ust  allow,  that  all  Christians 
are  equally  ca'-ed  to  that  daili/  cross  and  self-denial 
which  was  then  reqr.ircd. 

It  ought  also  hrre  to  be  observed,  that  we  are 
called  to  these  duties  upon  our  hopes  of  happiness. 

For  Blessed  are  they  that  mmirn^  for  they  shaU  be 
comforted^  is  the  same  thing  as  saying,  miserable 
and  cursed  are  they  that  do  not  mourn,  for  they 
shall  not  be  comforted.     Again, 

Bhssed  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  king"' 
dom  of  heaven* 

Nothing  can  carry  a  greater  denial  and  c©ntra- 

11* 


12<J  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

diction  to  all  the  tempers  and  ways  of  the  work? 
thaa  this  doctrine  ;  it  not  only  puts  an  end  to  alt 
that  we  esteem  wicked  and  immoderate  desires  of 
worldly  satisfactions,  but  calls  us  from  all  worldly 
satisfactions,  which  any  way  fasten  the  soul  to  an^ 
false  goods,  and  make  it  less  ardent  after  true  hap- 
piness. As  the  Christian  religion  regards  only  the 
salvation  of  our  souls,  and  restoring  us  to  a  life  with 
God  in  heaven,  it  considers  every  thing  as  ill,  that 
keeps  us  in  a  state  of  any  false  enjoyment,  and 
nothing  as  good,  but  what  loosens  us  from  the 
world,  and  makes  us  less  slaves  to  its  vanities. 
Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit^  because  it  is  a  spirit 
of  disengagement  and  disrelish  of  the  world,  that 
puts  the  soul  in  a  state  of  liberty  and  fitness  to 
relish  and  receive  the  offers  of  true  happiness. 

The  doctrine  of  this  text  is  purely  the  doctrine 
of  self-denial  and  daily  cross,  to  which  our  Saviour 
called  his  disciples. 

For  let  any  one  consider,  how  it  is  possible  for  a 
man  to  be  poor  in  spirit,  but  by  renouncing  those 
enjoyments,  which  are  the  proper  delights  of  such 
as' are  hirih  and  rich  in  spirit.  Now  a  man  is  high 
in  spirit,  when  his  own  state  and  dignity  give  him  a 
pleasure  ;  he  is  rich  in  spirit,  who  seeks  and  delights 
in  the  enioyments  and  felicities  which  riches  afibrd  ; 
he  is  therefore  poor  in  spirit^  that  mortifies  all  vain 
thoughts,  rejects  every  self-pleasure,  and  avoids  and 
dislikes  the  empty  satisfactions  which  riches  and 
fortune  give. 

Now  this,  which  is  undoubtedly  the  doctrine  of 
this  passage,  is  the  very  essence  and  soul  of  all  self- 
denial  anci  mortification,  which  is  nothing  else  but 
a  constant  checking:  all  our  vain  tempers,  and  a 
denying  ours^^lves  such  enjo3^ments  as  naturally 
strengthen  and  support  them.  So  that  the  blessed- 
ness of  poverty  of  spirit,  is  the  blessedness  of  self- 
denial  and  mortification. 

For  surely  if  we  are  called  to  a  constant  poverty 


Uf'OX    CHRISTIAN    PEllFECTiOX.  127 

of  spirit,  we  arc  called  to  a  constant  refusal  of  alt 
enjoyments,  but  such  as  poverty  of  spirit  requires. 

For  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  when  it  is  said 
Blessed  arc  the  poor  in  spirit,  that  the  meaning  is. 
Blessed  arc  they  that  are  governed  by  this  spirit, 
for  that  is  only  a  man's  spirit  and  temper  which 
rules  and  directs  his  actions. 

An  ambitious  man-  is  one  that  is  governed  by  hi* 
spirit  of  ambition  ;  so  a  man  is  poor  in  spirit,  when 
that  is  the  spirit  that  governs  his  actions. 

As  the  rich  in  spirit  are  such  as  seek  the  felicity 
and  gratilications  of  riches,  so  the  poor  in  spirit  is  he 
that  avoids  and  dislikes  all  such  gratifications,  and 
seeks  such  things  as  properly  suit  with  such  a  mor- 
tilled  habit  of  mind. 

So  that  no  one  is  to  reckon  himself /7oor  in  spirit^ 
till  it  makes  him  net  only  reject  all  instances  of 
pride  and  self-enjoyment,  but  till  he  seeks  and  de- 
sires things  that  are  as  proper  to  a  poverty  of 
spirit,  as  food  is  proper  to  hunger,  or  rvater  to 
thirst. 

For  as  hunger  is  known  by  its  being  a  desire  of 
food,  and  thirst  by  its  desire  of  liquor^  so  poverty 
of  spirit  caa  only  be  known  by  its  seeking  such 
things  as  are  true  signs  of  it,  as  the  seeking  of  water 
is  a  sign  of  thirst. 

For  this  is  undeniable,  that  every  spirit  or  temper 
must  only  be  known  by  the  nature  of  the  things  it 
covets. 

If  we  are  hia;h-minded,  our  care  will  be  exercised 
about  high  things,  and  if  we  are  lowly  in  heart,  we 
shall  as  certainly  not  only  condescend,  but  seek 
after  thin<^s  that  are  lowly.  Let  a  man  therefore, 
who  would  deal  faithfully  with  himself,  consider 
not  only  whether  he  is  proiid^  luxurions,  indulcrrnt 
of  himself,  and  devoted  to  the  pleasures  and  satis- 
factions of  this  life,  but  let  him  consider  ^\hether 
he  is  poor  in  spirit^  whether  the  thincfs  that  he  seeks, 
the  designs  he  has  on  foot,  the  happiness  he  aims  at^ 


1 23  A     PRACTICAL   TREATISE 

and  the  course  of  his  life,  be  such  as  is  really  direct- 
ted  by  a  true  poverty  of  spirit. 

For  he  ought  not  to  think  that  he  is  governed  by 
this  spirit,  till  he  finds  himself  an  enemy  to  every 
pleasure,  every  care,  and  every  labour  that  is  con- 
trary to  it.  When  he  hates  self-indulgence,  as  the 
epicure  hates  self-denial ;  when  he  studies  humility, 
as  the  ambitious  man  aims  at  greatness,  when  he 
avoids  the  vanities  of  the  world,  as  the  sailor  avoids 
rocks  ;  then  may  he  reckon  himself  entitled  to  that 
blessedness  which  belongs  to.  those  who  are  poor  m 
spirit. 

This  is  that  self-denial,  holy  discipline,  daily 
cross,  to  which  all  Christians  are  called ;  that  by 
thus  losing  their  lives,  that  is,  thus  ceasing  to  live 
the  life  of  this  world,  thev  mav  purchase  to  them- 
selves  a  life  of  endless  happiness  in  another  state. 

I  believe  there  are  few  Christians  who  do  not 
acknov/ledge  that  Christianity  is  still  in  some  de* 
gree  a  doctrine  of  the  cross,  and  th-tt  the  text!?  above 
cited  have  still  some  meaning  with  regard  to  all 
Christians  ;  but  then  they  believe  this  in  rome  such 
loose  and  general  way,  or  live  with  so  iitle  regard 
to  what  they  do  believe  of  if,  that  they  feel  no  con- 
demnation of  themselves,  whatever  their  lives  are, 
from  hearing  these  doctrines. 

But  notv/ithstanding  all  this,  it  is  certain,  that 
Christians  are  as  much  obliged  to  conform  exactly 
to  these  doctrines  of  the  cross,  as  to  the  observance 
of  the  ten  commandments.  For  the  ten  command- 
ments were  not  more  certainly  laws  to  the  Jews, 
than  the  doctrines  of  self-denial,  and  poverty  of 
spirit,  are  laws  to  all  Christians. 

Another  plain  and  remarkable  instance  of  self- 
denial,  is  to  be  seen  in  the  following  words  :   • 

Ye  have  heard  (hat  it  hath  been  Siiid.  an  eye  for  an 
eye,  and  a  tootli  for  a  tooth  ;  but  I  sav  unto  t/ru.  that 
ye  rp^sist  not  evil,  but  xvhosoever  null  smite  thee  on  thy 
right  cheek,  turn  to  him  the  other  aho.     And  if  any 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PEaFEOTIOl^.  1  V^O. 

man  sue  thee  at  htu\  and  take  aivay  thy  coat,  let  him 
have  tjiy  cloak  alsa.  And  lohosoevfr  sJiall  compel  thee 
to  go  with  him  a  mile.,  go  ti^ith  him  twain* 

Our  blessed  Saviour's  first  proposal  was  this,  7/ 
any  man  ivill  come  after  mr,  let  him  deny  himself,  take. 
up  his  cross  daily ^  and  foliotc  mc* 

In  the  text  before  \is,  he  instructs  thotn  in  several 
instances,  wherein  this  sch'-dcnial  and  daily  cross 
consisted,  v/hich  are  now  the  common  terms  of  sal- 
vation to  all  Christians. 

We  are  to  deny  ourselves  in  not  demanding  a 
tooth  fur  a  tooth  ;  we  are  to  take  up  our  daily 
cross  by  turning  our  cheek  to  the  smiter,  and  suf- 
fering such  ill  usage  as  we  could  prevent  by  resis- 
tance. 

We  are  to  deny  ourselves  in  not  defending  our- 
selves by  suits  at  law,  and  must  take  up  the  cross 
of  one  injury  after  another,  rather  than  appeal  to 
the  contention  of  a  trial.  This  is  sufficiently  taught 
by  our  being  required  to  expose  ourselves  to  the 
farther  loss  of  our  cloak,  rather  than  have  recourse 
to  law  to  secure  our  coat. 

The  words  which  deliver  this  doctrine  are  so  very 
plain  and  express,  that  they  need  no  iUuslration  ; 
it  is  so  plain  also,  that  they  equally  belong  to  all 
Christians  of  all  ages.  The  manner  of  our  Saviour's 
delivering  himself  upon  these  points,  puts  it  out  of 
all  question,  that  they  wTre  doctrines  of  the  cross^ 
which  were  to  be  perpetual  marks  of  his  followers. 

Ye  have  heard  that  it  hath  been  said^  an  eye  for  an 
eye,  &c.     But  I  say  unto  you,  that  ye  resist  not  evil, 

&-C. 

It  was  not  possible  for  our  Saviour  to  express 
himself  in  a  more  aulhoritahve  manner,  than  he 
has  her?  done  ;  or  to  show  us  m  >re  plainly,  that  he 
was  hei-e  a  M-n;  as  the  rreaf  law  s-iver  of  Christians, 
and  delivering  doctrines  which  shoulfl  he  penjctnal 
laTi's  to  all^  his  disciples,  and  such  ajs  "jhguld  cqr 


l'3d  ▲  PRAGTIGAL    TREATISE 

stantly  distinguish  them  from  all  the  world.  Kov- 
is  it  possible  for  any  one  to  evade  the  literal  and 
open  meaning  of  these  doctrines,  but  in  such  a  way 
as  must  destroy  the  sense  of  any  other  part  of 
Scripture. 

If  it  could  be  shown,  that  we  are  not  obliged  by 
the  plain  and  express  doctrine  of  these  passages,  it 
might  as  well  be  shown,  that  the  next  doctrine, 
But  1  say  unto  you  love  your  enemies^  bless  tkem  that 
curse  you,  does  not  oblige  us  in  the  plain  and  literal 
sense  of  the  words. 

For  both  the  passages  are  equally  supported  by 
the  same  authority  of  our  Saviour,  expressed  in  the 
same  manner,  /  say  unto  you.  This  degree  also  of 
love  which  we  are  to  show  to  our  enemies,  is  as 
much  a  doctrine  of  the  cross,  as  contrary  to  all  our 
natural  tempers  and  worldly  interests,  as  that  of 
patience,  meekness,  and  submission,  to  those  who 
treat  us  injuriously.  These  virtues  are  also  neces- 
sary to  one  another  :  we  cannot  thus  love,  and  do 
good  to  our  enemy,  unless  we  are  thus  patient  un- 
der sufferings,  and  deny  ourselves  all  instances  of 
anger  and  uneasiness  at  them. 

It  is  pretended  by  some,  that  these  passages  only 
forbid  our  prosecution  of  spightful  and  malicious 
suits  at  law. 

But  such  people  might  as  well  pretend  that  the 
the  eighth  commandment  only  forbids  zranton  and 
fpighfful  stealing,  but  allows  it  when  it  is  done  so- 
berly and  with  no  spightful  intention. 

For  the  case  which  our  Saviour  put,  is  directly 
intended  against  such  a  pretence  as  this. 

It  is  the  case  of  a  man  who  has  a  suit  commenced 
against  him  for  hi.s  coat,  he  is  not  allowed  to  con- 
sider that  it  is  his  oirn  coat,  and  that  he  enters  no 
farther  into  the  trial  than  to  secure  his  coat  ;  he  is 
not  allowed  to  show  (his  degree  of  contention  or 
pn^er  at  injustice,  or  impatience  under  suffering,  bn.t^ 


VPO^    CHRISTIAN  PERFECTIOK.  \3t 

is  patiently  to  permit  his  coat  to  be  taken  from  him, 
though  that  patience  be  the  means  of  losing  his 
cloak  alsb. 

It  is  not  therefore  spightful  prosecutions,  but  the  v 
most  seemingly  reasonable  self-defence  that  is  here 
forbidden.  Further,  malice  and  revenge  were  not 
allowed  to  the  Jews,  yet  we  are  here  commanded 
to  deny  ourselves  such  methods  of  self-defence,  and 
rules  of  justice,  as  were  allowed  to  them. 

If  Christians  will  still  think  that  they  may  defend 
all  their  rights,  and  enter  into  all  such  contentions 
for  them,  as  the  laws  of  the  land  will  support  thorn 
in  ;  if  they  will  think  that  they  need  bear  no  other 
injuries,  but  such  as  courts  of  law  cannot  redress, 
they  are  as  much  mistaken  as  if  they  imagine  they 
need  practise  no  other  charitj^  or  worship  of  God^ 
but  such  as  human  laws  demand. 

For  Christian  meekness,  self-denial,  and  patience 
under  suftc rings,  arc  no  more  to  be  formed  by  the 
standard  of  human  laws,  than  our  devotion  to  God. 

In  these  things  Jesus  Clu'ist  is  our  only  law-giver^ 
•and  his  lavrs  are  to  be  complied  with  as  the  certain 
terms  of  our  salvation. 

Notwithstanding  therefore  we  may  be  able,  either 
by  personal  power,  or  legal  contention,  to  repel  in- 
juries, return  evil  for  evil,  and  demand  a  tooth  for  a 
tooth  ;  yet  as  disciples  of  Christ,  we  are  to  tura 
our  cheek  to  the  smiter ;  let  him  that  would  take 
our  coat  have  our  cloak  also  ;  and  })e  rather  content 
to  suffer  many  injuries  than,  by  defending  ourselves, 
raise  our  piissions,  embitter  our  tem):>ers,  and  de- 
stroy that  charity  wdiich  we  owe  to  our  neighbour. 

Now  this  meekjiess  and  self-denial  is  highly  suit- 
able to  the  spirit  and  temper  of  Christianity. 

It  is  highly  suitable  to  a  religion  that  restores 
sinners  to  God  by  sulFrrings  ;  it  is  suited  to  such  as 
have  forsaken  all  to  foMow  Christ  ;  it  is  suited  to 
such  as  are  to  be  dead  and  crucified  to  the  world  j 
to  such  as  are  to  be  meek  and  lowly  as  Christ ;  it  is 


J32  A    rRACTlCAL   tREAtlSt: 

suited  to  such  as  are  commanded  to  love  and  do 
all  good  to  their  most  violent  enemies,  and  who  arc 
to  love  their  neighbours  as  themselves* 

And  v*'hatever  pride,  self-love,  or  human  wisdom 
may  suggest  against  this  doctrine,  may,  with  equal 
strength,  be  objected  against  all  those  other  doc- 
trines, which  are  thus  of  a  spirit  like  unto  it. 

But  let  Christians  consider,  that  it  is  of  these  doc^ 
trines  of  the  cross,  that  our  Saviour  saith.  Whoever 
s^liall  be  ashamed  of  ine^  and  of  my  zoord^  of  him  shall 
the  Son  of  man  be  ashamed^  rohen  he  shall  come  in  his 
07on  glorify  and  in  his  Father'' s^  and  of  the  holy  angels* 
Farther. 

This  is  my  Commandment.,  saith  Christ,  that  ye 
love  one  another .^  as  I  have  loved  you.  Now  this  as 
plainly  forbids  all  strife  and  angry  contentions  with 
others,  as  when  w^e  are  commanded  to  part  with 
our  coat,  rather  than  contend  for  it.  For  it  is  as 
impossible  to  love  our  adversary  whilst  we  are  con- 
tending with  him,  as  Christ  loved  us,  as  to  follow 
Christ,  and  at  the  same  time  depart  from  him. 

His  love  tow^ards  mankind  (which  is  the  example 
for  our  love)  knew  of  no  enemies,  nor  refused  any 
sufferings,  but  vvas  a  continual  labour  for  the  salva- 
tion of  all  men.  If,  therefore,  Ave  treat  any  persons 
as  our  enemies.,  or  fly  in  the  face  of  those  who  injure 
us,  and  are  impatient  under  sufferings,  we  are  fallen 
fron  that  love  which  is  to  govern  all  our  actions. 

Men  may  fancy  what  they  please  of  the  charity 
of  their  tempers,  whilst  they  are  resisting  evil,  and 
carrying  on  the  contentions  of  laAv,  a-i  others  may 
think  they  hate  their  conversation  in  heaven.,  wdiilst 
they  are  labourina;  after  riches  on  earth  ;  but  if  they 
would  consider,  that  Christian  charity  is  to  be  like 
the  charity  of  Chr'st,  who  died  for  his  enemies,  they 
would  soon  find,  that  it  must  be  a  charity  of  ano- 
ther kin'^,  that  allows  them  to  contend  with  their 
enemies. 

'Every  resistance  or  contention  of  any  kind  is  a 


^>. 


"UPON   CIimSTIAN    TERFECTtOX.  1-35 

'Quarrel,  and  necessarily  begets  some  degrees  oi" 
s,pight  and  itl-will  ;  and  though  they  may  often  be 
carried  on  with  some  sJiovv  of  external  decency,  yet 
the  inward  temper  partakes  of  the  contention,  is 
tainted  with  some  little  and  ill-natured  resentments, 
and  destroys  that  divine  spirit  of  love  to  which  we 
are  called. 

So  that  to  talk  of  the  charity  of  resisting,  and 
contentious  suits  at  law,  is  almost  like  talking  of 
ihe  charity  of  duels. 

The  only  Avay,  therefore,  to  preserve  our  Chris- 
tian spirit,  and  show  ourselves  more  like  Christ 
than  those  who  injure  us,  is  to  act  as  he  did  under 
injuries,  and  bear  them  with  patience,  for  such  rea- 
sons as  rendered  him  patient.  We  are  sure,  that 
whilst  we  follow  him  w^e  follow  the  zuay,  the  truths 
and  the  life  ;  but  as  soon  as  we  resent,  and  form  de- 
signs of  conquering  our  oppressor,  we  partake  of 
his  spirit,  and  offend  against  meekness  and  charity, 
as  he  offended  against  justice. 

We  must  therefore  bear  with  injuries  and  wrongs  ; 
not  because  it  is  difficult  to  redress  them,  but  be- 
cause it  is  difficult,  and  next  to  impossible,  to  resist 
and  contend  Vv^ith  our  adversaries,  without  forfeit- 
ing that  humility,  meekness,  and  divine  love,  to 
which  we  are  called. 

We  must  suffer  with  patience,  because  such  pa- 
tience is  an  exercise  of  our  self-denial,  that  rendeits 
;us  more  like  our  Lord  and  Master. 

This  cannot  be  doubted  of,  since  we  are  told  of 
o\u'  blessed  Saviour,  That  though  he  were  a  Son,  yet 
learned  he  obedience  by  the  //img.f  lohich  he  suffered. 

Now  if  this  be  true,  is  it  not  true  in  the  same  de- 
gree, that  we  arc  not  only  to  bear  sufferings  with 
patience,  but  even  receive  them  with  thankfulness, 
as  pro'pcr  means  to  teach  us  obedience  to  the  lavrs 
of  God  ? 

Fo'-  if  he,  who  was  a  Son,  who  was  without  sin, 
and  Sv»  full  of  divine  kno  fledge,  yet  received  instruc- 

12 


134  A     PRACTICAL    TREATlslL 

tioii  from  suflcrings,  surely  \vc,  who  are  poor  infirm 
creatures,  must  want  that  instruction  which  is  to  be 
learnt  from  them. 

For  to  suppose  that  we  can  be  obedient  to  God 
without  sufi'erings,  is  to  suppose,  that  we  can  do 
our  duty  without  such  helps  as  the  Son  of  God  had. 
Sufferings  are  therefore  lo  be  considered  amongst 
the  graces  .of  God,  Vv  hich  purify  our  souls,  enlighten 
our  minds  with  divine  knowledge,  and  prepare  us 
to  perfect  holiness  in  the  fear  of  God, 

But  how  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  Christ  do  we 
act,  if  our  sufferings  provoke  us  into  methods  of 
retaliation  ;  and  instead  of  teaching  us  obedience  to 
God,  lead  us  into  a  state  of  enmity  towards  our  bre- 
thren ? 

Farther;  it  became   him,  saith  the  apostle, /cr 
TV'hom  arc  all  things,  and  ly  rchoni  are     t  t  i     ••in 
ail  things^  in  bringing  many  so7is  unto 
glory  ^  to  make  the  Captain   of  their  salvation  perfct 
through  svfferings* 

\Vc  are  here  plainly  taught,  not  only  thot  Christ 
was  made  ])erfect  through  sufferings,  but  (hot  it 
w^as  fit  he  should  be  made  perfect  that  way,  as  the 
only  way  that  could  bring  many  sons  unto  glory. 

So  that  we  see  one  end  of  Christ's  sufferings,  be- 
fore his  being  crowlied  with  glorj^  and  honour,  was 
to  teach  us,  that  sufferings  is  the  way  to  arrive  at 
glory,  and  that  those  who  desire  to  be  sons  of  glory 
must  iirst  be  made  perfect  through  suflerings. 

We  therefore  for^^et  the  nature  of  our  relisfion.. 
wc  mistake  the  one  great  design  of  Christ's  sunci-- 
ings,  we  go  out  of  the  road  to  glory,  if  Ave  do  not 
patiently  submit  to  sufferings,  if  we  are  not  thankful 
that  wc  suffer  with  Chris f^  that  ice  may  reign  7cith  him. 

Mq\\  in  vain  pretend  that  they  only  defend  thcm- 
,s<^lves  against  injustice.  For  ihese  are  the  Ycry 
hardships  which  Christ  suffered,  and  which  they 
are,  if  they  would  be  guided  by  his  Spirit,  -o  suffer 
with  patience. 


UrON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION*  loiO 

St.  Peter,  speaking  to  servants,  saiih,  This  ij 
thank'icorthy^  if  a  man  for  conscience  tozcard  God, 
endure  grief  suffering  zorongfuUi/*  If  tvhen  ye  do 
zoell^  and  suffer  for  it^yc  take  it  patiently^  this  w  ac- 
ceptable roithv  God*  For  e'cen  hereunto  were  ye  called, 
beciiuse  Christ  also  suffered  for  us,  having  us  ((a  ex- 
ample that  ye  should  follow  his  steps* 

Here  the  aposllc  founds  the  duty  of  servants  be- 
ing subject  to  masters  that  treat  them  injuriously, 
upon  the  common  doctrine  of  Christianity,  because 
to  sufier  wron(>;ful]y  is  thank  worthy  before  Cod, 
and  because  Christ's  example  has  called  us  to  bear 
with  patience  those  injurious  and  wrongful  hard- 
ships. 

Let  it  therefore  be  carefully  observed,  that  as  sure 
as  the  apostle  here  speaks  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  so 
sure  it  is  that  our  behaviour  is  not  thank  worthy, 
or  acceptable  with  God,  unless  we  endure  Avronir- 
ful  sufferings  with  patience  ;  and  that  if  we  lay  aside 
this  meekness,  we  leave  the  example  of  Christj 
who  only  saves  such  as  follow  his  steps. 

I  have  now  gone  through  several  instances  of  that 
mortification,  self-denial,  and  suffering,  to  which 
the  Christian  world  are  called. 

If  the  doctrines  of  this  chapter  seem  hard  and 
grievous,  they  can  only  seem  so  to  such  as  have 
wrong  notions  of  human  life. 

Too  many  people  imagine  this  life  to  bq  some- 
thing that  is  substantial  in  itself,  and  valuable  for 
its  own  goods,  and  look  upon  religion  as  something 
that  is  added  to  it,  to  make  a  worldly  life  more 
easy,  regular,  and  happy  ;  and  so  embrace  religion 
with  no  other  spirit,  nor  to  any  farther  decree  thau 
as  it  complies  with  the  ease,  order,  and  happiness 
of  that  way  of  life  in  which  they  live. 

Our  blessed  Saviour  has  fully  confuted  this  opin- 
ion, by  teaching  us  that  there  is  but  one  thing  need- 
ful.     If  therefore  we  are  but  so  far  Christians,  as 
idi  believe  that  what  our  Saviour  has  here  taugUt 


136  A    PRACVTICAL    TREATISE 

is  Strictly  true ;  then  all  the  pretended  grievances, 
of  self  denial  and  suffering  are  all  struck  off  at  once. 

For  what  though  meekness,  patience,  and  humi^ 
lity,  may  often  make  us  sufferers,  yet  if  such  suffer- 
ings make  us  not  only  lose  such  things  as  are  not 
■needful  for  us,  where  is  any  ground  for  complaint  ? 

But  farther,  such  sufferings  are  not  only  without 
uny  real  hurt,  but  they  promote  our  happiness,  and 
become  matter  of  real  and  solid  joy. 

Blessed  an  ye.  whm  wen  ffhall  revile  you,  and pe'}> 
reciite  yoqi^  and  shall  say  all  manner       %t^..  „    i  ■. 
(»f  evil  of  you  false ly  Jar  my  sake.,  re" 
joke  and  be  exceeding  glad,  for  great  is  your  rczcard^ 
in  heaven, 

Christ  does  not  endeavour  to  comfort  us  in  this 
state,  as  if  it  was  a  hard  or  melancholy  state,  which 
we  must  bear,  because  it  is  made  easier  with  pa- 
lience,  or  because  God  has  pleased  to  impose  it 
upon  us,  but  he  looks  at  it  m  quite  another  view,  not 
as  needing  comfort,  but  as  having  matter  fit  for  con- 
gratulation. 

What  Christians  are  they  therefore,  what  stran- 
gers to  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  who  reckon  those  things 
amongst  the  hardships  of  religion,  which  Christ  re- 
commends to  us  as  reasons  of  rejoicing,  and  being 
exceeding  glad  ? 

The  whole  matter  therefore  plainly  comes  to 
this  ;  if  our  sufferings,  our  injuries  or  hardships,  be 
»uch  as  we  undergo,  because  we  dare  not  depart 
from  that  meekness,  and  patience,  and  charity, 
which  Christ  has  taught,  because  we  had  rather 
love  our  enemies  than  be  revenged  on  them,  rather 
."buffer  like  Christ,  and  be  full  of  his  Spirit,  than 
avoid  sufferings  by  a  contrary  temper,  such  suffer^ 
Ings  are  our  greatest  gains. 

If,  on  the  contrary,  you  know  of  any  meekness 
and  patience  which  is  not  after  the  example  of 
Christ,  any  injuries  or  suffenn.2:s  vvhich  you  can 
resist,  and  yet  show  that  yau  follow  th&  example  of 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  137 

Christ's  patience,  and  meekness,  and  charity,  the 
doctrine  of  this  chapter  has  no  recommendation  of 
such  sufferings. 

You  are  only  Here  exhorted  to  bear  such  injuries 
and  sufferings  as  make  you  more  Hke  Christ,  such 
as  are  true  instances  of  that  meekness,  patience, 
and  clnrity,  which  were  the  principal  tempers  of 
his  Spirit. 

Now  be  the  hardships  or  self-denials  what  they 
will,  if  they  make  us  more  like  to  Christ,  they  have 
done  more  for  us,  than  all  the  prosperity  in  the 
world  can  do,  and  he  that  defends  himself  at  the 
expense  of  any  temper,  that  was  the  temper  of 
Christy  has  done  himself  an  injury,  greater  than  the 
worst  and  most  powerful  of  his  enemies  can  bring 
upon  him. 

And  all  this  is  founded  upon  this  one  reason,  be- 
cause there  is  but  one  thing  needful^  the  salvation  of 
our  souh.  It  is  this  that  changes  the  natures  of  all 
human  things,  and  makes  every  thing  good  or  evil 
only  so  far  as  it  promotes  or  hinders  this  one  end  of 
life.  The  salvation  of  the  world  is  the  only  happi- 
ness of  the  world,  and  he  that  has  secured  his  share 
in  that,  has  secured  to  himself  all  the  joy  and  glad- 
ness that  can  befal  human  nature. 

A  Cliristian,  therefore,  that  is  not  content  with 
sanation,  that  wants  to  add  a  worldly  joy  and  plea- 
sure to  the  great  things  of  religion,  is  more  sense- 
less than  the  man,  that  should  think  he  had  hard 
usage  to  be  saved  from  a  shipwreck,  unless  he  was 
carried  off  upon  a  cedar  plank. 


!  ''2:-^ 


iM  A    PRACTICAL    TKEA  n.?r 

CHAP.  Yll. 

Some  farther  Considerations  upon  the  reaso)>.ahkne!^^ 
of  Self  denial. ' 

BEFORE  I  proceed  any  farther  in  other  instan- 
ces of  self-denial,  it  may  be  proper  to  show  in 
what  the  duty  of  self  denial  is  founded,  or  wherein 
the  reasonableness  and  necessity  of  it  consists. 

Every  duty  of  virtue  of  the  Christian  life  is 
founded  in  tiTith  and  reason,  and  is  required  be- 
cause of  Its  fitness  to  be  clonCy  and  not  because  God 
has  power  to  command  what  he  pleases. 

If  we  are  commanded  to  be  meek  and  humble,  it 
is  because  meekness  and  humility  are  as  true  judg- 
ments, and  as  suitable  to  the  truth  of  our  state  as  it 
is  a  true  judgment,  and  suitable  to  the  state  of 
every  dependent  being,  to  be  thankful  for  mer- 
cies. 

If  we  are  bid  to  rejoice,  it  is  at  something  that  is 
truly  joyful ;  if  to  fear,  it  is  to  fear  something  that 
is  really  dreadful.  Thus  we  are  called  to  no  tempers 
but  such  as  are  so  many  true  judgments,  and  as  truly 
founded  in  the  nature  and  reason  of  things,  as  if  we 
were  bid  to  believe  two  to  be  the  half  part  of  four. 

God  is  reason  and  wisdom  itself,  and  he  can  no 
more  call  us  to  any  tempers  or  duties,  but  such  as 
•are  strictly  reasonable  in  themselves,  than  he  can 
act  against  himself,  or  contradict  his  own  nature. 

As  we  can  say  with  assurance,  that  God  cannot 
lie,  so  we  may  with  the  same  certainty  affirm,  that 
he  cannot  enjoin  any  thing  to  rational  creatures, 
that  is  contrary  to  the  reason  of  their  nature,  no 
more  than  he  can  enjoin  them  to  love  things  that 
are  not  lovely,  or  hate  things  that  are  in  tb-cir  na- 
ftire  not  hateful. 

When  God  speaks,  we  are  as  sure  that  infinite 
reason  speaks,  as  we  arc  sure  there  is  a  God. 


UPOS    CHRISTIAX    PERFECTIO.T.  131> 

A  little  reflection  upon  this  matter,  will  give  vui 
the  utmost  assurance  in  such  reasonings  as  this.    .. 

As  sure  therefore  as  there  is  a  God,  so  sure  is  it^ 
that  a  religion  from  God  has  only  reasonable  com- 
mands to  reasonable  creatures.  No  tempers  can  be 
.  imposed  upon  us  by  way  of  task  and  imposition, 
which  we  might  as  reasonably  be  without,  if  it  was 
not  required  of  us.  God  can  only  will,  that  rea- 
sonable creatures  should  be  more  reasonable,  more 
perfect,  and  more  like  himself,  and  consequently 
can  enjoin  us  no  duties,  or  temper  of  mind,  but 
such  as  have  this  tendency.  All  his  commands  are 
for  our  sakcs,  founded  in  the  necessities  of  our  na* 
tures,  and  are  only  so  many  instructions  to  become 
more  happy,  than  we  could  be  without  them. 

A  good  man  that  enjoys  the  use  of  his  reason,  is 
o  flended  at  madmen  and  /bo/5  because  they  both  act 
contrary  to  the  reason  of  things.  The  madman  fan- 
cies himself,  and  every  thing  about  him,  to  he  dif- 
ferent from  what  they  are  ;  the  /bo/  knows  nothing 
of  the  value  of  things,  is  ridiculous  in  his  choices, 
and  preferji  a  shell  before  the  most  useful  things  in 
life. 

Now  a  good  man,  merely  through  the  love  of 
reason,  is  offended  at  their  conduct,  and  would  do 
all  that  he  could  to  abate  the  frensy  of  the  one,  and 
the  stupidity  of  the  other. 

Let  this  a  little  represent  fo  us  the  conduct  of 
God  towards  fallen  man,  God  is  reason  itself;  how 
highly  therefore  must  he  be  offended  at  the  follies 
and  stupidity  of  mankind  ?  Tf  a  madman  s:'oms  so 
unreasonable  a  creature  to  us,  because  he  fancies 
himself  to  be  something  that  he  is  not  ;  howunrea- 
sonable.must  f^illen  man,  who  is  fallen  from  all  true 
knowledge  of  himself,  appear  to  him  who  is  infinite 
reason  ? 

Again,  God  is  s:oodness  itself  ;  therefore  human 
goodaess  is  inclined  to  endeavour  (he  cure  of  mad- 
men  and  fools,  must  not  goodness  itself  be   much 


i'iO  A  PRACTICJAL  TREATISE 

more  inclined  to  correct  the  madness  and  folly  of 
fallen  man  ? 

We  see  that  men  arc  said  to  be  mad,  when  they 
fancy  themselves,  and  the  things  about  them  to  be 
different  from  what  they  are  ;  they  are  said  to  be 
fools,  when  they  mistake  the  value  of  things  :  now 
if  this  be  true,  as  it  most  certainly  is,  it  may  serve 
to  show  us,  that  man  in  his  present  state  of  disorder 
and  ignorance,  must  appear  to  God  both  asybo/and 
mad ;  for  every  sinner  is  truly  mad,  as  he  imagines 
himself,  and  all  things  about  him,  to  be  what  they 
are  not :  he  is  really  a  fool,  as  he  is  ridiculous  m 
his  choices,  and  mistakes  the  value  of  things. 

Now  religion  is  oar  cure  ;  it  is  God's  merciful 
communication  of  such  rules  and  discipline  of  life, 
as  may  serve  to  deliver  us  from  the  infjituation  and 
ignorance  of  our  fallen  state.  It  is  to  teach  us  the 
knowledge  of  ourselves,  and  all  things  about  us, 
that  we  may  no  longer  act  like  madmen  ;  it  is  to- 
teach  us  the  true  value  of  things,  that  we  may  know 
our  good  and  evil,  and  not  be  as  idiols  in  the  choice 
of  things. 

Now  fools  and  madmen  have  their  paradise,  and' 
are  pleased  with  their  imaginary  happiness  ;  this- 
makes  them  averse  from  all  methods  of  cure. 

For  this  reason,  God  presses  his  instructions  upon 
Us  with  terro'^s  and  threatenings,  and  makes  those 
virtues  which  are  the  natural  good  and  cure  of  our 
souls,  such  duties  to  him,  as  he  will  punish  ihe  ne- 
glect of.- 

So  that  the  power  of  God  is  mercifully  employed 
to  move  us  to  such  a  reasonable  way  of  life,  as  is 
2iec'\ssiry  for  our  h  tpplness. 

Some  people  are  so  weak,  as  to  wonder,  that  what 
we  call  sin,  shoukl  be  so  odious  to  God,  or  what 
it  can  signify  to  God,  whether  we  arc  iclse  or  fn<d>sh» 

Let  sucli  consider,  that  God  is  icisdom  and  reason 
itself,  and  comsequently  every  thing  that  is  contrary 
to  reason  and  wisdom^  is  contrary  to  his  nature  ;  so 


IfrON    GHRISTIAN    FERPECTI©i.  141 

Aat  a  state  of  sin,  is  a  state  of  contrarictj  to  Gotl. 
To  ask  therefore  why  God  hates  all  sin,  is  the  same 
thing  as  to  ask  "vvhy  God  cannot  tell  any  sort  of  He ; 
it  is  because  every  deviation  from  truth  is  contrary 
to  his  nature,  which  is  truth  itself;  so  every  in- 
stance of  sin,  as  it  is  an  unreasonable  act,  is  con- 
trary to  his  nature,  who  is  reason  itself. 

There  is  therefore  a  necessity,  from  the  nature  of 
things,  that  every  creature  be  delivered  from  sin, 
before  it  can  enter  into  the  beatific  presence  of  God  : 
for  if  God  could  reward  wicked  beings,  and  make 
them  happy  by  the  enjoyment  of  his  presence,  he 
would  as  much  cease  to  act  according  to  the  nature 
of  things,  as  if  he  should  punish  a  being  that  lived 
in  innocence  ;  for  to  punish  innocence,  and  to  re- 
ward sin,  are  equally  contrary  to  the  nature  and 
reason  of  things. 

This  observation  may  teach  us  to  admire  the 
excellency  of  the  Christian  religion,  which  restores 
sinners  to  God  by  so  great  an  atonement  for  sin,  and 
which  only  admits  the  repentance  and  devotion  of 
fallen  man,  through  the  merits  ^ndi  mediation  of  the 
Son  of  God. 

To  return  :  Let  such  people  also  consider,  that 
even  reasonable  men  have  a  necessary  dislike  of 
fools  and  madmen,  they  cannot  possibly  make  them 
the  objects  of  their  pleasure  and  affection. 

But  now,  if  some  things  are  so  odious  in  them- 
selves, that  even  the  reason  of  m^in  cannot  but  abhor 
them,  how  much  more  odious,  how  nuich  more  con- 
trary to  the  perfection  of  the  divine  nature,  must 
the  folly  and  madne-^s  of  sin  be  ? 

Thus  if  we  consider  what  reason  is  in  oui-selves, 
that  it  necessarily  dislikes  unreasonaf)le  persons  as 
■well  as  things  ;  we  may  have  some  notion  how  all 
sin  and  sinners,  that  is,  all  beings  which  act  con- 
trary to  reason^  must  be  in  a  state  of  the  utmost  con- 
t^'arioty  to  God,  who  is  the  kiphest  reason, 

God  is  l^)ve,  yet  it  is  ccrtiin.  that  he  can  onl j  lovt? 


14S  4^    ?R  ACT  ICAL.  TREATISE 

5-*uch  things  as  are  lovely :  so  God  is  gGOclncss.  yet 
he  cannot  make  sinners  happy,  lJec^^usc  there  is  as 
much  contradiction  to  reason  and  perfection  in 
making  sinners  happy,  as  in  loving  thin.'^s  that  are 
jftot  truly  lovely,  or  in  hating  things  that  are  not 
hateful.  This  may  serve  to  give  us,  in  some  mea- 
sure, a  true  idea  of  the  nature  of  religion  and  the 
V-ature  of  sin. 

That  religion  is  God's  gracious  method  of  deliver- 
ing us  from  the  unreasonableness  and  corruption  of 
pur  natures,  that  by  complying  with  its  rules  and 
discipline  we  may  be  so  altered  in  our  natures,  so 
restored  to  reason,  as  to  be  fit  for  the  rewards  of  an 
infinitely  wise  and  perfect  being. 

That  sin  is  the  misery  and  disorder,  the  madness 
and  folly  of  our  nature,  which  as  necessarily  sepa- 
rates us  from  God,  as  God  is  contrary  to  ail  unrea- 
sonableness. 

I  have  just  mentioned  these  things,  to  help  us  to 
conceive  rightly,  what  is  meant  by  the  reasonable- 
ness and  necessity  of  those  tempers  which  religion 
requires.  And  I  hope  this  is  sufficient  to  give  any 
one  a  positive  assurance,  that  religion  is  so  far  from 
being  an  imposition  upon  us,  consisting  of  needless 
duties,  that  it  is  founded  in  the  nature  and  reason 
of  things,  and  is  as  necessary  to  restore  us  to  the 
enjoyment  of  God,  as  it  is  necessary  that  God 
should  love  things  according  as  they  are  lovely. 

For  let  any  one  carefully  consider  this  proposi- 
tion, whether  it  be  not  absolutely  certain,  that  God. 
loveth  all  things,  accordingly  as  they  are  lovely.. 
Is  not  this  as  certain,  as  that  God  is  reason  itself? 
Could  he  be  infinitely  reasonable,  or  reason  in  per- 
fection, if  he  did  not  regard  things  according  to 
their  natures  ?  hating  only  those  things  that  are 
truly  hateful,  and  loving  things  so  far  as  they  are 
lovely.  To  act  by  any  other  rule  than  the  reason 
and  nature  of  things,  is  to  act  by  humour  and 
Qapriccji    Let  this  therefore  teach  us,  that  8^  we  arc 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFEGTIO.\\  113 

m  ourselves,  so  we  ore  necessarily  either  odious  or 
acceptable  to  Cod. 

So  far  as  wc  cease  from  sin  and  suffer  ourselves 
lo  be  made  wise  and  reasonable  by  the  wisdom  and 
reason  of  religion  ;  so  far  v.e  make  ourselves  objects 
of  the  love  of  that  infniitely  perfect  Being,  who  ne- 
cessarily loves  beings  as  they  arc  lovely  in  their 
na(ure. 

And  so  far  as  we  continue  in  the  madness  and 
folly  of  sin,  and  neglect  the  rules  of  religion,  which 
would  deliver  us  from  the  guilt  and  slavery  of  it  ; 
so  far  we  make  it  necessary  for  that  perfect  Being 
to  hate  us,  who  cannot  but  hate  things  accordingly 
as  they  arc  in  themselves  hateful. 

Some  people,  either  through  self-love,  or  some 
confused  opinion  of  God  and  themselves,  are  always 
fancying  themselves  to  be  partkidar  favourites  of 
God,  imagining  all  their  little  successes,  or  bles- 
sings, in  their  health  and  circumstances  above  other 
peo))le,  to  be  distinguishing  marks  of  God's  par f/cit- 
lar  kindness  tovrards  them. 

But  such  persons  must  consider,  that  God  is  rca- 
•son  itself;  that  he  is  subject  to  no  p«W/cM/ar fondness, 
no  more  than  he  is  capable  of  weakness  ;  and  that 
he  can  no  more  love  them  with  any  parlicular  love, 
that  is  not  an  act  of  the  highest  reason,  than  he  can 
lie,  or  act  contrary  to  the  truth. 

They  should  consider,  tliat  the  things  of  this  llfe^ 
its  successes  and  prosperities,  are  so  far  from  being 
marks  of  God's  particular  favour,  that  afflictions 
have  a  much  better  claim  to  it  ;  for  vchom  the  Lord 
tovelh  lit  chas'oLeth.,  ^t. 

When  such  p-?ople  fancy  th.'^mselves  in  the  parti' 
ciilar  f  ivour  of  God,  they  should  consider,  that  to 
be  loved  by  God,  is  to  be  loved  by  ijifinite  reason 
and  7CLsdo>n^  and  that  reason  c^m  only  love  or  ap- 
prove things  as  they  are  confoi'mable  to  it.  To  be 
approved  by  reason,  we  must  act  conformably  to 
reason-5  nnd  lobe  nnnroved  by  the  highest  reason 
Weiaust  act  conformably  io  the  highest  reason. 


•4  44  A    PRACTICAL    tREATlSE 

So  that  when  our  lives  arc  conformable  to  tlic 
liighcst  reason,  then  may  wc  believe  that  so  far  as 
•ihey  arc  such,  so  far  arc  they  in  the  favour  of  God, 
who  is  the  highest  reason.  To  fancy  that  any  thing 
else  can  make  us  favourites  of  God,  is  mere  igno- 
rance and  pride,  and  owing  to  the  same  vanity  and 
self-love,  which  makes  some  people  think  that  they 
are  admired  and  esteemed  by  all  that  know  them. 
For  so  sure  as  God  is  reason  itself,  so  sure  is  it, 
that  to  be  loved  by  God,  and  to  be  approved  l)y  the 
highest  reason,  is  the  same  thing  ;  so  that  if  he, 
w^hose  life  is  not  conformable  to  the  highest  reason, 
imagines  that  he  is  particularly  beloved  by  God, 
he  is  guilty  of  the  same  absurdity,  as  if  he  believ- 
ed that  God  is  not  the  highest  reason,  or  reason  in 
perfection. 

It  is  not  more  certain  that  there  is  but  one  God, 
than  it  is  certain  that  there  is  but  one  way  of 
making  ourselves  objects  of  his  love,  namely,  by  con- 
forming and  acting  according  to  the  highest  reason, 
when  our  lives  are  agreeable  to  reason,  and  the 
nature  of  things,  then  are  our  lives  agreeable  to  God. 
Now  so  far  as  we  act  conformably  to  religion,  so 
far  wc  act  according  to  the  highest  reason,  and 
draw  near  to  God,  by  a  wisdom  that  comes  from 
God,  and  v^^as  revealed  unto  us,  that  it  might  make 
us  such  reasonable  beings,  as  to  be  fit  objects  of  hi* 
eternal  love. 

For  a  religion  from  God  maist  be  according  to 
the  nature  of  God,  requiring  no  other  change  of 
thoughts  or  actions  but  such  as  is  conformable  to 
truth  and  reason. 

Now  the  reasonableness  of  actions  consists  ia 
their  fitness  to  be  done  ;  there  is  a  reasonableness 
in  being  thankful  for  mercies ;  there  is  a  reasona- 
bleness in  rejoicing  a^  things  that  are  joyful  ;  and 
so  in  all  other  actions  or  tempers,  they  arc  either 
reasonable  or  unreasonnble.  ns  they  are  agreeable 
or  contrary  to  the  nature  of  things. 


LFON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  146 

This  is  what  I  would  have  understood  by  the 
reasonableness  of  all  religious  duties  or  tempers  ; 
they  are  all  required  because  they  are  as  suitable 
to  the  nature  and  reason  of  things,  as  it  is  suitable 
to  the  reason  of  things  to  be  thankful  for  mercies, 
or  fear  things  that  are  truly  dreadful. 

Thus,  for  instance,  humility  is  nothing  else  but  a 
right  judgment  of  ourselves,  and  is  only  so  far  en- 
joined as  it  is  suitable  to  the  truth  of  our  stale,  for 
"to  think  worse  of  ourselves  than  we  really  are,  is  no 
•more  a  virtue  than  to  make^rc  to  be  less  thanybw?-. 
On  the  contrary,  he  that  is  proud,  oflends  as 
much  against  truth  and  reason,  and  judges  as  false- 
ly of  himself,  as  the  madman  who  faneies  himself 
to  be  a  king,  and  the  strazc,  to  which  he  is  chained, 
to  be  a  throne  of  state. 

Having  observed  thus  much  concerning  the  rea- 
sonableness of  tempers  or  duties  to  which  religion 
demands,  I  proceed  now  to  show,  wherein  the 
reasonableness  and  necessity  of  self-denial  consists. 
If  a  person  was  to  walk  upon  a  rope  across  some 
great  river,  and  he  was  bid  to  deny  himself  the 
pleasure  of  walking  in  silver  shoes,  or  looking  about 
at  the  beauty  of  the  waves,  or  listening  to  the 
snoise  of  sailors  ;  if  he  was  commanded  to  deny 
himself  the  advantage  of  fishing  by  the  way,  would 
there  be  any  hardship  in  such  self-denial  ?  Would 
not  such  self-denials  be  as  reasonable,  as  comman- 
ding him  to  love  things  that  will  do  him  good,  or 
to  avoid  things  that  are  hurtful  ? 

Strait  is  the  gate^  and  narroxo  is  the  way^  that  lead- 
tth  iinlo  life^  saith  our  blessed  Saviour.  Now  if 
Chrislians  are  to  walk  in  a  narroic  way  that  leadeth 
to  eternal  life^the  chief  business  of  a  Christian  must 
be,  to  deny  himself  all  tiiose  things  which  may  either 
stop  or  le  id  him  out  of  his  narrow  way.  And  if 
they  think  that  pleasures  and  indulg'-nces  are  con* 
sistcnt  with  their  keeping  this  narrow  way,  they 
think  as  reasonably  as  if  the  man  upen  the  rope 

13 


14G  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

Bhould  think,  that  he  might  safely  use  silver  shoes, 
or  stop  in  his  way  to  catch  fish. 

Again,  if  a  man  that  was  a  slave  to  sottish  and 
rstupifying  pleasures,  that  rendered  him  averse  from 
all  exercises  of  the  mind,  was  yet  obliged,  in  order 
To  save  his  life,  to  attain  to  such  or  such  a  degree 
of  mathematical  knowledge,  must  it  not  be  as  ne- 
cessary for  such  a  one  to  deny  himself  those  indul- 
gences which  increased  his  stupidity,  as  it  would 
be  necessary  to  study  the  relations  of  figures? 

Now  this  is  the  foundation  of  all  Christian  self- 
denial  ;  we  are  born  and  bred  in  slavery  to  sin  and 
corrupt  tempers,  and  are  only  to  be  saved  by  put- 
ting ofi'this  old  man,  and  being  renewed  in  holiness 
and  purity  of  life.  The  denials  therefore  of  reli- 
j2;ion,  are  only  the  necessary  means  of  salvation,  as 
ihey  are  necessary  to  lessen  the  coiTuption  of  our 
nature,  destroy  our  old  habits,  alter  the  taste  and 
temper  of  our  minds,  and  prepare  us  to  relish  and 
aspire  after  holiness  and  perfection. 

For  since  our  souls  are  in  a  state  of  corruption, 
and  our  life  is  a  state  of  probation,  in  order  to  alter 
and  remove  this  corruption,  it  is  certain,  that  every 
thing  and  every  way  of  life,  which  nourishes  and 
increases  our  corruption,  is  as  much  to  be  avoided, 
as  those  things  which  beget  in  us  purity  and  holi- 
ness, are  to  be  sought  after. 

A  man  that  wants  his  health,  is  as  w  ell,  and  for 
the  same  reasons,  to  avoid  such  things  as  nourish 
his  illness,  as  he  is  to  take  medicines  that  have  a 
healing  quality.  Self-denial  is,  therefore,  as  essen- 
tial to  the  Christian  life  as  prayer  is  ;  it  being 
equally  necessary  to  deny  ourselves  such  things  as 
support  our  corruption,  as  it  is  necessary  to  pray 
for  those  things  which  w ill  do  us  good,  and  purify 
our  natures. 

The  whole  of  the  matter  is  this,  Christians  are 
called  from  a  state  of  disorder,  sin,  and  ignorance, 
to  a  state  of  hoUness  and  resemblance  of  the  divine 


tfPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION..  147 

nature.  If,  therefore,  there  are  any  things,  or  any 
ways,  that  corru})t  our  minds,  support  our  vanity, 
increase  our  blindness,  or  nourish  sensuality  ;  all 
these  are  as  necessary  to  be  avoided,  as  it  is  neces- 
sary to  be  holy. 

If  there  are  any  denials  or  mortifications  that 
purify-  and  enlighten  the  soul,  that  lessen  the  power 
of  bodily  passions,  tliat  raise  us  to  a  heavenly  aficc^ 
tion,  and  make  us  taste  and  relish  the  things  that 
be  of  God,  these  are  as  necessary  to  be  practised, 
as  it  is  necessary  to  believe  in  Jesus  Christ. 

So  that  the  matter  comes  to  this  ;  if  there  are  no 
indulgences  in  eating  to  do  us  harm,  then  fasting  is 
of  no  use  ;  but  if  there  are,  if  they  enslave  the  soul, 
and  give  it  a  sensual  taste,  then  we  are  as  mucli 
obliged  to  abstain  from  what  docs  us  this  harm,  as 
we  are  obhged  to  pray  for  any  .thing  that  can  do 
us  good. 

No  Christian  that  knows  any  thing  of  the  Gospel, 
can  doubt  whether  fastui<r  be  a  common  duty  of 
Christianity,  since  our  Saviour  has  placed  it  along 
with  secret  alms  and  private  prayer,  IVhen  thoxh 
fastest^  anoint  thy  head,  and  tf}ash  thy  Tif  **  ,••  i  r 
face,  that  thou  appear  not  unto  men  to  '^^^'    "* 

fast^  but  to  thy  Father,  zchich  is  in  secret,  and  thy 
Father,  lohich  seeth  in  secret,  shall  reward  thee  openly. 

So  that  the  same  instructions,  and  the  same  rea- 
sons, are  given  for  private  fasting,  as  for  secret  alms- 
and  private  prayer,  that  thy  Father,  zvhich  secth  in 
secret,  may  reward  thee  openly,  Now  as  it  is  mani- 
festly entitled  to  the  same  reward,  it  is  manifestly 
put  upon  the  same  foot  as  private  prayer,  and  as 
equally  acceptable  to  God. 

Ealing  and  drinking  are  the  common  support  of 
life  ;  but  then,  as  they  are  the  support  of  a  corrupt 
life,  the  nourishment  of  a  disordered  body  that, 
weighs  down  the  soul,  whose  appetites  and  tempers 
are  in  a  state  of  enmity  with  the  life  and  purity  of 


148  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

the  soul,  it  is  necessary  that  we  take  care  so  to 
support  the  life  of  the  hodj^  as  not  to  occasion  the 
.sickness  and  death  of  the  soul. 

The  fall  of  man  consists  very  much  in  the  fall  of 
the  soul  into  the  dominion  and  power  of  the  body, 
whose  joy,  and  health,  and  strength,  is  often  the 
slavery,  weakness,  and  infirmity  of  the  soul. 

How  far  our  bodies  affect  our  habits,  or  ways  of 
thinking,  may  be  seen  by  the  diffcreriCe  betv/een 
,iickness  and  health,  youth  and  old  age.  .These  dif- 
ferent states  of  the  body  alter  the  whole  turn  of  our 
riiinds,  and  give  us  new  ways  of  thinking,  all  ov;ing 
i.o  the  different  strength  of  bodily  appetites  and 
tempers.  No  sooner  is  the  body  weakened  by  any 
occasion,  but  the  soul  is  more  at  liberty,  speaks 
higher  for  itself,  and  begins  to  act  m^ore  reasonably. 

What  is  the  reason  that  a  m?f??i?g/if  reflection  ^'oes 
generally  deeper  than  a  thought  at  any  other  time  ? 
No  reason  can  well  be  assigned,  but  the  peace  and 
tranquillity  of  the  body,  which  gives  the  soul  a 
liberty  of  seeing  farther  into  things  than  at  any 
other  time. 

The  dilTerence  between  the  same  man,  full  and 
fasting,  is  almost  the  difference  of  two  persons  ;  a 
man  that,  in  the  morning,  finds  himself  fu  for  any 
meditations,  is,  after  a  full  meal,  changed  into  ano- 
ther creature,  fit  only  for  idle  amusements,  or  the 
yawnings  of  an  animal. 

He  has  not  only  created  a  dulness  in  his  soul, 
"but  has  perverted  its  taste,  for  he  can  be  pleased 
with  a  romance,  or  impertinent  history  ;  at  the  same 
time  he  has  no  relish  for  a  book  of  devotion,  that 
requires  less  attention. 

i  mention  this  to  show,  that  fasting  has  a  nearer 
relation  to  all  religious  tempers  than  is  generally 
thought  ;  and  that  indulgent,  or  full  feeding,  doefi 
not  only  dull  the  mind,  b\it  more  particularly  gives 
.  it  a  dullness  towards  the  things  of  religion.  If  it 
were  not  thus,  a  book  of  religious  reflections  would 


UPON'    CHRISTIAJf  PERFEl  TION.  149 

be  as  acceptable  at  such  times  as  those  other  books 
which  require  as  much,  or  more  attention. 

And  the  reason  of  this  is  plain,  because  all  our 
tempers  and  desires  are  always  suitable  to  the  state 
we  are  in  ;  if  ^^'c  are  in  a  state  of  sensual  joy,  feel- 
ing  the  ha])pines9  of  a  full  stomach  and  heated 
blood,  we  relish  or  desire  nothing  but  what  suits 
with  it.  For  this  reason  plays  and  romances,  and 
vain  diversions,  can  entertain  a  man  that  has  eat  as 
long  as  he  could  ;  but  lectures  upon  morality,  or 
discourses  u})on  death  and  judgment,  would  tire 
him  i*\(o  sleep.  \\  hat  we  o])scrve  of  the  jaundice, 
that  it  makes  us  see  all  things  yellow,  is,  in  a  certain 
degree,  true  of  every  state  of  the  body ;  it  makes  us 
conceive  things,  with  some  degree  of  likeness,  to 
the  condition  it  is  then  in.  Every  alteration  in  the 
body  gives  some  alteration  to  our  way  of  conceiv- 
ing the  saine  things. 

As  he,  therctbre,  that  would  see  things  in  their 
proper  colours,  must  first  cure  himself  of  the  jaun- 
dice ;  SO  he  that  would  apprehend  things  according 
to  their  natui-es,  must  take  care  that  his  body  be  so 
ordered  as  to  have  as  little  a  share  as  possible  in 
his  judgments. 

When  a  man  has  his  stomach  full  of  wind,  and 
feels  no  pleasant  enjoyment  of  his  body,  you  can 
hardly  pro})ose  any  thing  to  him  that  will  appear 
reasonable  ;  do  but  stay  till  his  stomach  is  altered, 
till  he  has  had  a  full  and  cheerftd  meal,  and  ho  will 
be  as  natiu'ally  in  a  better  Lemper  as  any  other  an- 
imal that  has  filled  its  belly. 

When  men  have  been  unreasonably  out  of  tem- 
per, through  the  nwvr  motions  of  the  body.  1  be- 
lieve they  often  condemn  themselves  afterwards  ; 
but  then  they  do  not  conifider  that  the  contrary 
stafp  is  a  state  of  the  same  slavery  to  the  blintl  mo- 
tions o\'  the  body,  and  Uable  to  the  same  condemna- 
tion. For  if  a  full  and  pleasant  meal  makes  us  so 
gaj  and  cheerful,  as  to  laugh  and  be  pleased  with 


150  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE. 

the  vainest  things,  we  are  then  as  unreasonable^ 
and  as  mere  slaves  to  our  bodies,  as  when  a  cold  or 
empty  stomach  shall  make  us  angry  at  every  thing. 

For  it  is  as  great  a  contradiction  to  reason  and 
wisdom  to  be  pleased  with  things  or  persons,  be- 
cause our  body  is  in  a  state  of  joy,  as  it  is  to  be 
angry  and  displeased  at  things  or  persons,  because 
an  easterly  wind,  or  an  indigested  meal  has  sour- 
ed our  spirits. 

Now  both  these  states  are  equally  states  of  sla- 
very to  the  body,  equally  expose  our  folly,  and  hove 
the  same  contrariety  to  religion.  A  man  is  as  far 
from  religious  wisdom,  when  full  fieding  has  made 
him  merry,  vain,  and  trifling,  as  when  a  contrary 
state  of  body  makes  him  sour,  angry,  and  fretful. 

It  is  the  business,  therefore,  of  reUgion,  to  put  an 
end  to  these  states  of  slavery,  to  deliver  man  from 
the  blind  laws  of  flesh  and  blood,  and  give  him  a 
wisdom  and  constancy,  a  taste  and  judgment  suita- 
ble to  the  reason  and  wisdom  of  the  laws  of  God  ; 
to  fill  our  souls  with  such  principles  of  peace  as- 
may  give  us  habits  of  tranquillity,  superior  to  the 
changeable  tempers  of  our  bodies. 

'^owfastins^  as  it  is  a  denial  of  bodily  indulsencep, 
as  it  disciplines  the  body  into  a  state  of  obedi^^nce, 
and  contradicts  its  appetites,  is  the  most  constant 
and  universal  means  of  procuring  liberty  and  free- 
dom of  mind. 

For  it  is  the  love  of  our  body,  and  too  much  care 
of  hs  enjoyments,  that  makes  us  too  sensible  of  its 
demand's,  and  subject  to  its  tempers.  Whatever  we 
nourish  and  cherish,  so  far  gains  an  interest  in  us, 
and  rules  us  in  the  same  degree  that  it  has  got  our 
aflections.  Till  therefore  religion  has  entered  us 
into  a  state  of  self-denial,  we  live  in  a  state  that 
supports  (he  slavery  and  corruption  of  our  natures. 

Fur  every  indulgence  of  the  body  in  eating  and 
drinkinc:  is  adding  to  its  power,  and  making  all  our 
ways  of  thinking  subservient  to  it. 


UPON'    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTIOX.  l^f 

A  man  that  makes  every  day  a  day  of  full  and 
cheerful  meals,  will,  by  degvee?,  make  the  happi- 
ness of  every  day  depend  upon  it,  and  consider 
every  thing  with  regard  to  it. 

He  will  go  to  church,  or  stay  at  home,  as  it  suits 
with  his  dinner,  and  not  scruple  to  tell  you,  that  he 
generally  eats  too  heartily  to  go  to  the  afternoon 
service. 

Now  such  people  are  under  a  worse  disorder  of 
body,  than  he  that  has  the  jaundice,  and  have  their 
judgment  more  perverted  than  he  that  sees  all 
things  yellow. 

For  how  can  they  be  said  to  perceive  the  diffe- 
rence of  things,  who  have  more  taste  for  the  prepa- 
rations of  the  kitchen  tVfan  the  joys  and  comforts 
of  the  house  of  God  ;  who  choose  rather  to  make 
themselves  unfit  for  divine  service,  than  to  baulk  the 
pleasures  of  a  full  meal  ?  And  this  not  by  chance, 
or  upon  some  unusual  occasion,  but  by  a  constant 
intended  course  of  life. 

Let  such  people  deal  faithfully  with  themselves^ 
and  search  out  their  spirit.  Can  they  think  that 
they  arc  born  amin  of  God,  that  they  have  the  Spi- 
rit of  Christ,  who  are  thus  subject  to  the  ])leasures 
o^ glnftoni/  7  Can  they  be  said  to  treat  their  bodies 
as  temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  who  make  them  unfit 
for  the  holy  service  of  pulilic  worship  ?  Can  they 
be  said  to  oiler  their  bodies  unto  God  as  a  reason- 
able, holif,  and  livin?  sacrifice  ?  Can  they  be  said 
to  love  God  icith  all  tJieir  hearty  and  all  their  soidy 
or  to  have  forsaken  nil  to  follow  Christ,  who  will 
not  so  much  as  forsake  half  a  meal  for  the  sake  of 
divine  worship  ? 

I  know  it  will  be  thought  too  severe  thit  I  have 
called  this  filnUony,  because  it  is  the  })ractice  of 
numbers  of  people  of  worth  and  reputation  ;  but  1 
hope  they  will  turn  their  dislike  of  fhe  name  into  a 
dislike  of  the  thing  ;  for  it  is  certainly  gluttony,  as 
picking  pockets  is  stealing. 


152  A  PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

The  sin  of  gluttony  is  the  sin  of  over-eating,  of 
being  too  much  given  to  full  meals  :  now  this  may 
be  difficult  in  some  instances  to  state  exactly  ;  yet 
he  that  owns  he  eats  so  much,  as  renders  him  indis- 
posed for  the  public  worship  of  God,  has  determin- 
ed against  himgelf,  and  put  his  own  case  out  of  all 
question.  For  if  there  be  such  a  sin,  as  the  sin  of 
over-eating,  it  must  surely  then  be  committed, 
when  we  eat  too  much  to  attend  upon  the  service 
of  the  church. 

Men  may  fancy  that  they  are  only  chargeable 
with  gluttony,  who  eat  till  they  surfeit  their  bodies ; 
they  may  think  those  only  guilty  of  drunkenness, 
who  drink  till  they  have  lost  their  senses  :  but 
there  is  a  much  surer  rule  to  go  by,  given  them  by 
the  Spirit  of  God  ;  Whethe?-  ye  eat  or  drinks  or  what^ 
soeroer  ye  do,  do  all  to  the  ^lory  of  God*  All,  there- 
fore, in  eating  and  drinking,  that  is  not  within  the 
bounds  of  the  glory  of  God,  is  offered  to  something 
that  is  not  the  glory  of  God  ;  it  is  offered  to  the 
corruption  and  sensuality  of  our  natures  ;  it  is  the 
sin  of  intemperance,  and  has  the  sin  of  indcvotion 
added  to  it,  when  it  is  indulged  at  a  time  that  keeps 
us  from  the  public  worship  of  Cod. 

Let  such  people  exainine  their  own  hearts,  and 
see  what  opinion  they  have  of  divine  service.  Can 
they  look  upon  it  as  doing  God's  will  on  earth  as  it 
is  done  in  heaven  ?  Can  they  look  upon  it  as  en- 
tering into  the  presence  of  God,  as  approaching  the 
thron*^  of  ^race  ?  Can  they  esteem  it  to  be  the 
nourishment  and  support  of  their  souls,  a  necessary 
means  of  securing  the  divine  ar>"=istnnce,  as  a  most 
acceptable  way  of  pleasing  God,  and  securing, their 
eternal  happiness,  who  arc  not  afraid  to  eat  and 
drink  till  they  are  indisposed,  and  unwilling  to 
attend  to  it  ?  If  they^  still  have  just  notions  of  the 
nature  of  divine  service,  let  them  think  of  these 
words  o^  our  blessed  Saviour,  If  ?/e  hnovo  tbss6 
things,  happy  are  ye  if  ye  do  ihcm. 


UPON    CHfllSTTAN    PERFECTION.  1  d"3 

But  if  they  look  upon  it  as  of  less  concern  than 
a  full  meal,  if  they  think  that  there  is  no  occasion 
hr  exactness  in  it,  it  is  time  they  were  told,  that 
they  have  not  the  love  of  God  abiding  in  them. 

For  if  they  did  really  hunger  and  thirst  after 
righteousness,  which  is  the  true  love  of  God,  they 
would  rejoice  at  every  oppo7'tunity  of  entering  far- 
ther into  his  favour ;  they  would  go  to  the  house  of 
God,  the  abode  of  his  presence,  with  more  joy  than 
to  any  other  place,  and  think  those  days  the  most 
happy  that  were  most  dovorod  to  the  cares  and  joys 
of  a  lite  witli  God  to  all  c'ernity. 

They  would  cut  oiT  a  right  hand,  or  pluck  out  a 
right  eye,  rather  than  be  hindered  from  those  helps 
which  are  to  raise  their  hope,  enliven  their  faith, 
and  form  their  souls  to  a  delight  ond  joy  in  God. 

If  they  want  this  zeal  towards  God,  they  want  a 
zeal,  which  is  the  life  and  spirit  of  a  Christian^ 
which  distinguishes  a  disciple  of  Christ  from  those. 
who  live  without  God  in  the  world. 

I  have  spoken  the  more  home  to  this  point,  be- 
cause  it  is  so  allovv'ed  a  practice,  which  as  unavoid- 
ably destroys  the  true  spirit  and  temper  of  reli- 
gion, as  any  things  that  are  notoriously  sinful. 

Indeed  a  eotistant  course  ,of  full  feeding  is  the 
death  of  the  soul,  and  every  day,  that  is  a  day  of 
such  happiness,  is  a  dav  lost  to  religion. 

Wiien  a  man  hasrnoiced  himself  with  full  eating 
and  drinking,  he  is  like  any  oth^r  animal,  disposed 
only  to  play  or  idleness.  He  has  no  more  feeling 
of  sin  than  he  has  of  hiinc'pr,  cnn  no  more  perceive 
himself  to  be  a  y;vsr.'ablc  fallen  crenture.  than  he 
can  p'^rcoive  himrr'f  to  be  a  beggar,  and  conse- 
quently is  no  more  affected  with  any  forms  of  con- 
fession, or  repf-ntance,  than  if  he  was,  every  day,  to 
confess  that  he  was  a  starving  beggar. 

For  this  course  of  self  enjoyment  is  as  contrary  to 
humility,  contrition,  and  a  true  sense  of  sin,  as  it  is 
contrary  to  a  slate  of  beggai-y  and  want :  and  consc- 


154  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

quently  a  man  in  such  happiness,  can  no  more  sin- 
cerely deplore  the  weight  of  5m,  than  he  can  feel 
himself  in  the  misery  of  poverty. 

If,  therefore,  religion  is  to  be  the  state  and  tern* 
per  of  our  minds  ;  if  it  is  to  be  the  ruling  taste  and 
relish  of  our  souls  ;  if  its  goods  and  evils  are  to 
govern  our  actions,  it  is  as  necessary  to  renounce 
sensuality,  and  mortify  our  bodies,  as  it  is  necessary 
to  resist  temptations.  For  abstinence,  or  self- 
denial,  is  not  only  a  good,  advisable,  and  reasona- 
ble practice,  but  is  a  constant,  necossory,  and  uni- 
versal duty,  and  enters  farther  into  the  cure  of  our 
souls  than  any  other  practice.  It  is  as  necessary 
for  a  Christian,  that  would  get  rid  of  the  disorders 
of  his  nature,  and  lessen  the  weight  of  sin,  as  it  is 
necessary  for  a  man  in  a  dropsy  to  abstain  from 
drink^  or  a  man  in  ^  fever  to  refrain  from  sp-^'  '^linga 
as  infame  his  blood. 

Indeed  this  self-denial  is  the  chief  and  most  ge- 
neral exercise  of  the  Christian  life,  and  is  the  very 
form  and  svhsiance  of  every  virtue  ;  so  far  as  we 
deny  our  natural  tempers,  so  far  we  seem  to  be 
advanced  in  virtue. 

We  are  so  far  humble,  as  we  deny  ourselves  in 
the  instances  of  pride  ;  so  far  heavenly-minded,  as 
we  deny  our  earthly  inclinations  ;  so  far  charitable, 
as  we  deny  our  tempers  of  self-love  and  envy  ;  and 
so,  in  every  virtue,  it  seems  to  have  its  chief  foun- 
dation in  the  denial  of  some  corrupt  temper  of  our 
natnrcs. 

I  know  some  people  object  i\\dL\  fasthig  is  not  an 
universal  duty,  that  it  is  rather  like  some  particular 
medicine  or  remedy,  thqit  is  only  necessary  f6r  some 
particular  cases,  and  particular  constitutions. 

To  this  it  may  be  answered,  that  if  by  fasting  is 
meant  an  entire  abstinence  from  all  food,  for  such 
or  such  a  certain  space  of  time  ;  that  fasting,  in 
that  sense,  is  not  an  universal  and  constant  duty. 
But  then  it  ought  to  be  observed,  that  this  is  no 


tJPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  155 

more  the  nature  of  fasting  than  any  particular  form 
of  confession,  of  such  or  such  a  length,  is  the  pre- 
cise nature  of  repentance. 

For  as  repentance  docs  not  consist  in  any  stated 
fixed  degrees  of  sorrow  and  pain  for  sin,  v/hich  is 
to  be  the  common  repentance  for  all  men,  in  all 
Slates,  and  at  all  times  ;  but  is  such  an  exercise  of 
grief  and  contrition,  as  is  suited  to  every  one's  par- 
ticular state  :  so  fasting  is  not  any  fixed  degree  of 
abstinence  from  all  food,  which  is  to  be  the  com- 
mon measure  of  fasting  to  all  men,  in  ail  states,  and 
at  all  times  ;  but  is  such  an  exercise,  abstinence, 
and  self-denial,  as  is  proper  to  every  one's  particu- 
lar state. 

Nov:  if  we  understand  fasting  in  this  sense,  in 
which  it  ought  to  be  understood,  as  an  abs'.inence 
from  such  food,  and  pleasures  and  degrees  of  feed-* 
ing,  as  are  improper  in  every  state  of  life  ;  such 
an  abstinence  as  to  destroy  sensuality,  lessen  the 
corruption  of  our  natures,  and  make  us  relish  and 
taste  spiritual  enjoyments  ;  in  this  sense,  fasting  is 
as  constant  and  universal  a  duty  as  repentance. 

For  as  repentance  is  an  universal  duty,  because 
the  reason  of  it  is  common  to  all  men  ;  so  this  fast- 
ing is  necessary  to  all  men,  because  sensuality, 
fleshly  lusts,  and  the  corruption  of  bodily  tempers, 
is  the  universal  corruption  of  all  men. 

It  is  sometimes  also  objected,  that  fasting  cannot 
be  an  universal  duty,  because  some  people's  consti- 
tutions will  not  suficr  them  to  eat  enough  for  their 
health. 

To  this  it  may  be  answered,  that  some  people 
may  be  so  inlirm,  that  they  cannot  attend  at  the 
public  xvorship  of  God  ;  yet  surely  public  worship  is 
an  universal  duty^  thouc;h  some  people's  constitu- 
tions may  make  them  incapable  of  going  to  it. 

Secondly  ;  This  objection  is  only  of  weight 
against  fasting,  as  it  signifies  an  entire  abstinence 
from  all  food  for  a  certain  space  of  time,  but  is  of 


156  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

no    force  against  such  an   abstinence,  as  I  have 
shown  to  be  the  common  duly  of  all  Christians. 

Thirdly ;  Persons  of  weak  and  infirm  constitu- 
tions, have  often  as  much  necessity  of  self-denial  as 
others  of  the  most  healthful  bodies  ;  for  their  very 
state,  it  may  be,  has  taught  them  indulgence  ;  by 
being  accustomed  to  so  much  care  of  themselves, 
they  become  no  better  than  perpetual  nurses  of 
them.selves,  and  consequently  are  too  much  devoted 
to  that  which  is  not  the  one  thing  needfuL 

AVeakly  people  may  as  well  be  epicures,  and 
have  the  same  sensuality  to  conquer,  as  other  peo- 
ple, and  consequently  have  the  same  necessity  of 
their  degree  of  abstinence  and  denial  that  others 
liave. 

Let  such  people  have  recourse  to  the  example  of 
Timothy^  who  was  an  apostolical  bishop.  His  his- 
tory teaches  us,  that  he  was  weakly,  and  subject  to 
frequent  infirmities  ;  who  notwithstanding  he  may 
be  supposed  to  have  enjoyed  the  extraordinary  gifts 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  yet  in  this  state  of  divine  great- 
ness, and  bodily  weakness,  he  wanted  the  authority 
and  advice  of  an  apostle,  to  persuade  him  to  drink 
any  thing  besides  water.  This  we  are  sufficiently 
taught  by  the  apostle's  givir.g  this  advice  in  his 
epistle  to  him,  drink  no  longer  water  ;  that  is,  nothing 
but  water,  but  use  a  Httle  loine  for  thy  stomach'' s  sake, 
and  thine  often  infirmities. 

Lastly  ;  The  world  abounds  w^th  people,  who 
are  weakly  and  tender  merely  by  their  indulgences  ; 
they  have  bad  nerves,  low  spirits,  and  frequent 
indispositions,  through  irregularity,  idleness,  and 
indulgence. 

Now  these  people,  it  is  true,  are  uoi  fit  for^ast^ 
i«g,  and  perhaps  if  th-ey  were  to  deal  faithfully 
with  themselves,  they  would  find,  that  they  are  as 
unfit  for  most  other  exercis'^s  of  relii^Mon,  and  con- 
sequently if  their  condition  m\%\\\.  be  ]>leaded  as  an 
objection  against  the  necessity  of  fasting,  it  might 


"tJPON   CHRTSTIAN    PERFECTION*.  Ij7 

<is  well  be  ])leaded  against  the  necessity  of  liali  ilii' 
cluties  oi"  Christianity. 

Upon  the  whole  matter  it  appears,  that  fasli-ng  i^-" 
■a  constant  universal  duty,  and  that  it  is  liable  to  no 
other  cxce{)tions,  than  such  as  are  common  to  seve- 
ral other  great  duties  of  religion. 

It  is  no  fixed  degree  of  sori'ow,  that  is  the  com- 
mon  repentance  of  all  men  ;  it  is  no  paiiicular  sum 
of  money,  that  is  the  common  charity  of  all  men  ; 
it  is  uo  Jixed  fornUf  or  lengthy  or  Jiour,  of  prayer,  that 
is  the  common  devotion  of  nil  men  :  vet  all  these 
■are  conslant  and  imiversal  duties. 

In  like  manner,  though  fasting  may  be  subject  to 
all  the  same  variations,  yet  it  is  a  constant  and  uni- 
versal duty* 

Justus  is  a  grave  sober  man,  he  is  very  ringi*y  at. 
those  people  who  neglect  or  ridicule  fasting  ;  he 
thinks  they  know  nothing  of  religion. 

Thus  far  Jnslus  is  very  right,  and  knowing  thus 
much,  one  would  wonder  that  he  is  so  inconsistent 
with  himself;  for  presently  after  this,  Justus  will 
tell  you,  that  he  never  fast^  but  upon  Good  Friday^ 
and  the  thirtieth  oi  January, 

If  Justas  had  lived  before  the  murder  of  King 
'Charles^  lie  had  had  but  one  fast  in  the  year,  yet,  in 
={dl  likelihood,  he  would  have  then  stood  up  for  the 
doctrine  oi  fastinij. 

If  a  man  was  to  be  angry  at  those  who  neglect 
or  despise  the  service  of  the  Church.,  as  people  that 
know  nothing  of  religion,  and  then  tell  you  that  he 
himself  never  goes  thither  but  on  Good  Friday  and 
the  thirtieth  of  January,  you  would  say,  that  he 
knew  nothing  of  the  nature  of  church  service. 

Now  Justus  shows  the  same  ignorance  of  the  na- 
ture of  f istinir.  For  if  prayer  and  repentance,  and 
the  service  oi  the  church,  were  not  -common  acts  of 
devotion,  and  v'vj^hl  and  necessary  ways  of  worship- 
ing God,  they  woiiid  not  be  necessary  upon  Good 
Friday,  or  aTiy  other  particular  day. 
^  .  14 


ioo  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

In  like  manner,  unless  fasting  was  a  common  and 
necessary  }:)art  of  religion,  something  that  was  al- 
ways a  proper  means  of  applying  to  God,  it  would 
neither  be  necessary  nor  acceptable  on  those  par- 
ticular days. 

For  it  is  not  the  day  that  makes  the  duty  to  be 
necessary,  but  the  day  happens  to  be  a  proper  occa- 
sion of  exercising  a  necessary  duty. 

Some  great  calamity  happens  to  you  ;  you  do  very 
well  to  make  it  an  occasion  of  exercising  great 
devotion,  but  if  you  stay  till  some  other  calamity 
happens  before  you  pray  again,  or  think  that  prayer 
is  only  proper  in  times  of  calamity^  you  know  no- 
thing of  devotion. 

It  is  the  same  thing  in  fasting  ;  some  great  occa- 
sion may  justly  call  you  to  it  ;  but  if  you  forbear 
fasting  till  such  great  occasions  happen  again,  or 
think  that  fasting  is  only  proper  for  such  public  occa- 
sions^ you  know  nothing  of  the  nature  of  fasting. 

U  Justus  was  to  say  that  he  never  repents  but  on 
those  public  days,  he  might  as  easily  defend  him- 
self, as  when  he  says,  ne  only  fasts,  at  those 
times. 

For  is  there  any  benefit  in  fasting  on  those  parti- 
cular days  ?  Does  it  add  any  thing  to  your  piety 
and  devotion  ?  Does  it  make  your  repentance  and 
sorrow  for  sin  more  real  and  aflVcting  ?'  Does  it 
calm  and  abate  your  passions,  lessen  the  power  of 
your  body,  and  put  you  in  a  better  state  of  devo- 
tion, than  when  you  take  your  usual  meals  ?  If  it 
has  not  something  of  this  effect,  where  is  the  use  of 
it  at  such  times  whea  you  would  have  your  devo- 
tions the  best  performed  ?  And  if  it  hafi  this  efiect, 
how  comes  it,  that  vou  will  have  but  one  or  tw» 
such  days  in  the  year?  Why  will  you  not  thus 
affect  your  soul,  thus  assist  your  devotions,  thus 
discipline  your  body,  thus  nllayyour  passions,  thus 
raise  your  heart,  thus  humble  yourself,  till  the  day 
Qomes  on  which  King  CJtarles  wns  murdered?  is 
riot   this  like  sf:Oying  till  tlien  before  you   repent. 


trfON    CrIRlSTIAN    PERFECTTOIJ.  1«^9 

Our  blessed   Saviour  saith,  But  thou.,  ri'hen  thou 
fastest^  anoint  thine  hcad^  and  wash  tjiy  face^  that  thou 
appear  not  unto  men  tofast^  hut  unto      xr^^t    ,-;     17 
thy  Father^  n^hich  is  in  secret^  and  thy 
Father^  xchich  is  in  secret,  shall  re'ivard  thee  opcnhj. 

Here  our  Saviour's  advice  relates  wholly  to  pri- 
vate fasting,  to  v.hicli  other  people  are  to  be  si  ran- 
gers ;  to  such  a  fasting  as  is  a  secret  service  to  God, 
who  will  therefore  highly  reward  it.  Yet  Jnsiu'^' 
tells  you,  that  he  fast^  only  twice  in  the  year,  and 
that  on  public  days.  Now  what  is  this  to  be  called  ? 
Is  it  weakness,  or  perverseness  ? 

If  you  was  to  ask  me,  whether  frequent  private 
prayer  be  a  necessary  duty,  I  should  think  it  suffi- 
cient to  read  to  you  the  following  passage  :  Bu! 
thou^  7vhen  thou  prayest^  enter  into  thy  closet^  and 
when  thou  hast  shftt  thy  door^  P^'f^}/  ^^  '%  Father 
which  is  in  secret^  and  thy  Father  ivhich  seclh  in  secret 
shall  reheard  thee  openly* 

Nothing  need  be  added  to  this  author  it  v  :  the 
necessity  and  advanta;2;e  of  private  prayer  is  here 
so  expressly  taught,  that  there  is  no  room  left  to 
doubt  about  it. 

Justus  readily  acknowledges  all  this  ;  hovv' comes 
it  then  Justus^  that  you  know  nothing  of  the  neces- 
sity and  advantage  of  private  fasting  ?  How  corner 
it  that  the  same  authority,  and  the  same  words, VIo 
not  teach  you  as  much  in  one  place  as  in  another  ? 
Has  not  our  Saviour  expressed  himself  exactly  in 
the  same  manner,  and  given  the  same  advice,  and 
proposed  the  same  reward  to  ])rivate  fasting,  as 
to  private  praver  ? 

Farther  ;  When  the  disciples  of  our  Lord  couUL 
not  cast  the  evil  spirit  out  of  a  man  that  was  a 
hnatic,  he  not  only  tells  them,  that  it  was  through 
want  of  faith,  but  also  gives  them  a  very  impor- 
tant instruction  in  these\vords  ;  TIow^  ^r'  ,  .. 
hcit  this  kind  gocth  not  out  but  by  prayer  J,]  ^""^^ 

and  fasting*  *^^ 


160  A  PRACTICAL  TREATISE 


)w  does  this  look  as  if  fasting  was  aw  oCca-^ 
sional  thing,  only  for  a  day  or  two  in  the  year?  Is 
it  ranked  with  prayer,  as  having  the  same  cammo'il 
[nature^  as  being  equally  prevailing  with  God  ?  And 
is  not  this  sufficient  to  teach  us,  that  we  must  think 
of  fastingy  as  we  think  of  prayer  ;  that  it  is  a  pro- 
per way  of  devotion;  a  right  method  of  applying  to 
God  ?  And  if  that  prayer  is  most  prevailing,  and 
rnters  farthest  into  heaven,  which  is  attended  with 
t'asting,  it  is  proof  enough  surely,  that  fasting  is  to 
be  a  common  ordinary  part  of  our  devotion. 

Is  it  sufficient  and  powerful  enough  to  cast  otit 
^levils^  and  cure  lunatics  ;  and  shall  v/e  neglect  it, 
when  we  pray  against  the  evil  tempers  and  passions 
which  possess  our  hearts  ?  Shall  we  not  pray  to 
God  in  the  most  powerful  prevailing  manner  that 
we  can  ? 

If  we  were  to  fast  without  praying,  would  not 
ihis  be  a  way  of  worship  of  our  own  invention  ? 
And  if  we  pray,  and  neglect  fasting,  is  it  not  equal- 
ly choosing  a  worship  of  our  own?  For  he  that  has 
taught  us  the  use  and  advantage  of  prayer,  has.  in 
rhe  same  words,  taught  us  the  same  things  of  fas- 
ting, and  has  also  joined  them  together,  as  having 
the  same  power  with  God. 

If,  therefore,  Justus  will  take  his  religion  from 
Scripture,  he  must  own,  that  fj^sting  is  of  the  nature 
of  prayer,  that  it  has  the  same  authority  from 
Christ,  and  that  he  who  only  fasts  on  a  public  day 
or  two  in  a  y^ar,  no  more  obser\T^s  the  v.  liole  duty 
of  Christian  fisting  than  he  who  only  attends  some 
public  yearly  days  of  prayer,  can  be  said  to  fulfil 
the  whole  duty  of  Christian  devotion. 

To  proceed  :  We  may  also  observe,  that  the  rea- 
son of  self-denial  and  abstinence  is  constant  and 
perpetual,  beca\ise  we  are  perpetually  united  to  a 
body  thRt  is  more  or  less  fit  to  join  with  our  souls 
in  acts  of  holiness,  according  to  the  state  that  it  i& 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    ^EnFEC^IO^^.  161 

As  therefore  it  is  always  necessary  to  take  care 
what  thoughts  and  inclinations  we  indulge  in  our 
minds,  so  it  is  equally  necessary,  that  we  be  con- 
stantly careful  how  we  alter  the  state  of  our  bodies, 
or  indulge  them  in  such  gratifications,  as  may  make 
them  less  fit  for  the  purposes  of  an  holy  life. 

For  since  there  are  states  of  the  body  which  fa- 
vour holiness,  and  these  states  depend  much  upon 
our  manner  of  living,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that 
we  avoid  every  degree  of  indulgence,  every  kind  of 
irregularity  and  idleness,  or  other  course  of  life, 
that  may  make  our  bodies  less  active,  less  pure, 
and  less  conformable  to  the  duties  of  religion. 

And  this  is  to  be  done,  as  I  said  before,  not  only 
as  a  reasonable  and  advisable  thing,  but  as  of  the 
utmost  necessity,  it  being  as  essential  to  holiness, 
to  purify  our  bodies,  and  practise  a  strict  temper- 
ance, as  it  is  necessary  to  practise  a  strict  charity. 

Now  Christian  temperance  is  no  more  that  which 
may  pass  for  temperance  in  the  si<2;ht  of  men,  than 
Christian  charity  is  that  which  is  visible  to  the 
world. 

A  worldly  man  may  think  himself  sufficiently 
temperate,  when  he  only  abstains  from  such  ex- 
cesses, as  may  make  him  fitter  to  enjoy  a  healthful 
sensualitv. 

But  Christian  temperance  is  of  quite  another  na- 
ture, and  for  other  ends,  it  is  to  put  the  body  into 
a  state  of  purity  and  submission,  and  give  the  soul 
a  divine  and  heavenly  taste. 

It  is  therefore  to  be  observed,  that  Christian 
temperance  is  never  enough  practised,  but  when  it 
puts  the  body  in  the  fittest  state  for  devotion,  and 
other  acts  of  holiness  :  when  our  bodies  have  all 
that  good  done  to  them,  have  all  that  purification, 
and  right  tempers,  which  abstinence  and  self-denial 
can  give  them,  then  do  we  practise  Christian  tem- 
perance. 

There  i^  no  other  rule  than  this  to  go  by  :  for 


162  A    PRACTICAL    TREAfl?E 

since  Christian  temperance  is  in  order  to  holine^^ 
purity,  and  heavenly  affection,  he  can  only  be  said 
to  be  truly  temperate,  whose  temperance  is  most 
serviceable  to  the  highest  degrees  of  holiness. 

And  to  stop  short  of  any  known  degrees  of  tem- 
perance, is  like  stopping  short  of  any  known  degrees 
of  charity.  It  is  therefore  as  necessary  to  practise 
all  the  exercises  of  self-denial  and  strict  abstinence^ 
as  it  is  necessary  to  aspire  after  real  holiness. 

For  as  our  bodies  are  constant,  and  home  enemies, 
and  have  a  mighty  influence  in  all  our  actions,  so 
far  as  we  preserve  them  in  a  state  suitable  to  holi- 
ness, so  far  we  preserve  ourselves  fit  for  the  exer- 
cise of  religion. 

It  is  out  of  all  question,  that,  there  is  a  purity  and 
impurity  of  our  bodies,  as  well  as  of  our  souls ;  that 
is,  there  are  some  states  and  tempers  of  our  bodies, 
that  favour  and  incline  to  acts  of  virtue,  and  others 
that  as  much  incline  to  all  sorts  of  sensuality. 

This  is  as  certain  as  that  gluttony  and  drunken* 
ness  dispose  men  to  all  sorts  of  sins,  and  give  them 
a  disrelish  for  all  kinds  of  holiness.  For  as  these 
states  of  life  have  the  utmost  contrariety  to  re'  '^Jon  ; 
so  every  approach  towards  them  is,  in  a  certaia 
degree,  partaking  of  them. 

A  man  that  lives  in  such  a  state,  as  not  to  be 
called  either  a  glutton  or  a  drunkard,  may  yet  be 
so  near  them,  as  to  partake  of  those  tempers  and 
inclinations  which  are  the  effects  of  gluttony  and 
drunkenness. 

For  there  are  such  degrees  in  these,  as  in  other 
ways  of  life.  A  man  may  be  vain  and  uncharita« 
ble,  yet  not  so  as  to  be  remarkable  for  his  vanity 
and  uncharitableness,  so  he  may  also  be  under  the 
guilt  and  evil  effects  of  eating  and  drinking,  though 
not  so  as  to  be  esteemed  either  a  glutton  or  intem- 
perate. 

So  that  the  only  security  for  a  good  Christian,  is 
io  make  it  the  care  of  his  life,  to  resist  all  enjoy- 


L'fON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  163- 

mcnts  that  cherish  vanity  and  uncharitablcncss,  not 
only  in  such  degrees  as  are  scandalous  and  visible 
in  the  eyes  oilmen,  but  such  as  inwardly  hurt  the 
humility  and  charity  of  his  mind. 

In  like  manner  as  to  eating  and  drinking,  he  is 
constantly  to  practice  such  abstinence  as  may  se- 
cure him  not  only  from  sensuality  in  the  sight  of 
the  world,  but  such  as  may  best  alter,  purify,  and 
humble  his  body,  and  make  it  the  holy  habitation 
of  a  soul  devoted  to  a  spiritual  lii'e. 

St.  Paul  saith,  /  therefore  so  run^  not  as  uncertain^ 
hf ;  sofiiht  /,  not  as  one  that  bealeth  the     ^  p    ,    •  , 
air.     But  I  keep   under  my   hody^  and 
bring  it  into  subjection^  lest  that  by  any  means,  when 
I  have  preached  to  others,. I  myself  should  be  a  cast- 
azcay. 

Let  it  therefore  be  observed,  that  the  apostle 
practised  this  self-denial  and  mortification,  net  only 
as  a  good  and  advisable  thing,  and  suitable  to  holi- 
ness, but  as  of  the  last  necessity.  It  was  not  as  he 
was  an  apostle,  and  that  he  might  be  litter  for  the 
miraculous  gifts  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  but  it  was  to 
secure  his  salvation,  lest  when  he  had  preached  to 
others,  he  should  be  a  cast-arcay. 

Let  it  be  considered  that  this  apostle,  who  lived 
in  infirmities,  in  reproaches,  in  necessities,  in  persecu- 
tions, in  distresses  for  Christ'' s  sake,  icho  teas  also  full 
of  signs  and  wonders,  and  mighty  deeds,  and  zvho  had 
Iten  caught  up  into  the  third  heavens  ;  yet  reckons 
all  his  virtues  as  unsecure,  and  his  salvation  in 
danger,  without  this  severity  of  self-denial  ;  he 
thought  all  his  other  advancements  in  piety  without 
this,  to  be  as  vain  a  labour  as  beating  ^y  r 
the  air. 

So  run  /,  saith  he,  not  as  uncertainly  ;  by  w  hich 
he  plainly  teaches  us,  that  he  who  does  not  thus 
run,  who  docs  not  thus  mortify  the  body,  runs  un- 
certainly, and  fighteth  to  as  little  purpose  a^  he 
ihat  beateth  the  air. 


164  A    PRACTIGAL    TREATISE 

Can  they  therefore  who  live  in  case  and  softness, 
and  bodily  indulgences,  who  study  and  seek  after 
every  gratification,  be  said  to  be  of  St.  PaaPs  reli- 
gion, or  to  be  governed  by  that  spirit  which  go- 
verned him  ? 

An  apostle  preaching  the  Gospel  with  signs  and 
wonders,  in  the  midst  of  distress  and  persecution, 
thought  his  own  salvation  in  danger,  without  this 
subjection  of  his  own  body,  and  shall  we,  who  are 
born  in  the  dregs  of  time,  who  have  no  works  like 
his  to  appeal  to,  think  it  safe  to  feed  and  indulge  in 
ease  and  plenty  ? 

A  man  may  indeed  practise  the  outward  part  of  a 
Christian,  he  may  be  orthodox  in  his  faith,  and  re- 
gular in  the  forms  of  religion,  and  yet  live  in  ease 
and  indulgence.  But  if  he  would  put  on  Christy  and 
be  clothed  with  the  humility  and  meekness  of  his 
true  disciples,  if  he  would  love  his  enemies,  and  be 
in  Christ  a  ?iero  creature  ;  if  he  would  live  })y  faitky 
and  have  his  conversation  in  heaven  ;  if  he  Avould 
be  born  again  of  God,  and  overcome  the  world,  he 
must  lay  the  foundation  of  all  these  graces  in  the 
mortification  and  subjection  of  his  body.  For  not 
only  religion,  but  reason  can  show  us,  that  almost 
every  ill  temper,  every  hinderance  of  virtue,  every 
clog  in  our  way  of  piety,  and  the  strength  of  every 
temptation  chiefly  arises  from  the  state  of  our 
bodies. 


CHAP.  VIII. 

The  Subject  of  Self-denial  farther  continued, 

THERE  are  no  truths  of  Christianity  more  plain- 
ly delivered  ia  the  Scriptures,  or  more  univer- 
sally acknowledged  by  all  Christians  than  these  two, 
viz,  the  general  corruptlorx  of  human  nature,  and  ike 


tPOfI    CHRISTIAN    PERPECTiey.  165 

tih^ohite.  necesfli;  ui  divine  grace.  Now  these  two^ 
doctrines  make  tl-;e  r-nsonarul  r.ecessitj  of  a  con- 
tinual self-denial  plain  and  obvious  to  the  meanest 
capacity,  and  extend  it  to  all  those  things  or  enjoy- 
ments, which  either  strcns:then  the  corruption  of 
©ur  nature,  or  grieve  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God,  and 
cause  him  to  leave  us. 

Let  any  one  bwt  reflect  ur  on  the  nature  of  these 
two  fundamental  truths,  and  he  will  find  himself 
soon  convinced,  that  all  those  enjoyments  are  to  be 
abstained  from,  which  either  support  our  natural 
blindness  and  corruption,  or  resist  and  abate  the 
inspirations  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

He  will  find  also,  that  this  seirdenial  must  extend 
ifcself  to  every  day  of  our  lives,  unless  he  can  find  a 
day  when  he  is  free  from  weakness,  or  out  of  the 
way  of  all  temptations ;  a  day  which  offers  nothing 
suitable  to  the  corruption  of  his  nature,  or  nothing 
contrary  to  the  good  motions  and  directions  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  Most  people  acknowledge  this  in 
general,  they  think  it  right  to  avoid  things  v»hich 
strengthen  our  corruption,  and  p-ieve  the  Spirit  of 
God;  but  then  not  conceiving  this  with  any  sulfi- 
cient  exactness,  they  think  that  an  abstinence  from 
gross  sins  is  a  sufficient  security. 

But  let  such  people  consider,  that  the  corruption 
of  our  nature  is  like  any  other  bodily  illness,  that 
never  keeps  at  one  stnnd,  but  is  either  increasing  or 
abating  by  evcfv  thing  that  we  do. 

A  (lr:pf!y  or  a  ^aii^rceyi  is  not  onlv'  increased  by 
drunkenness,  or  disorderly  indulgence  s,  but  re- 
ceives constant  strength  by  all  litile  indulgences 
that,  suit  with  it. 

Now  the  corruption  of  our  nature  is  an  inbred 
di-'tpmper,  that  pos"^esses  us  in  the  manner  of  a 
drrp."y  or  tranfrreen  :  if  we  give  it  to  notorious  sins, 
wr  berome  slaves  to  this  corruption,  and  are  strait* 
way  dend  in  sin. 

But  though  we  keep  dear  of  such  great  oflencc^^ 


J  06  A     PiLiCTICAL    TREATISE 

yet  if  wc  Indulge  or  allow  ourselves  in  ^uch  prcLC" 
tices  as  suit  with  the  corruption  of  our  nature,  we 
as  certainly  nourish  a  slow  death,  and  destroy  our- 
selves by  degrees,  as  a  man  in  a  dropsy^  who  abstains 
from  drunkenness,  yet  allows  himself  in  such  ways 
as  W'ill  not  suffer  his  distemper  to  obate. 

Now  as  little  allow^ances  that  continually  increase 
a  distemper,  will  as  certainly  in  time  make  it  mortal, 
as  if  it  had  been  urged  on  by  violent  methods,  so. 
little  indulgences,  which  increase  the  corruption  of 
our  nature,  as  certainly  tend  to  a  spii'itual  death,  as 
other  more  irregular  methods. 

It  is  therefore  absolutely  certain,  that  our  sdf- 
(hnial  is  to  be  universal,  as  the  means  of  our  corrup- 
tion, that  it  is  to  last  as  long  as  our  disorder,  and 
is  to  extend  itself  to  every  thing,  and  every  w  ay  of 
life  that  naturally  increases  it  ;  and  this,  for  as 
necessary  a  reason,  as  a  man  in  a  dropsy  is  not  only 
to  abstain  from  drunkenness,  but  from  e\erj  indul- 
gence that  increases  his  distemper. 

A  state  of  regimen,  therefore,  that  is,  a  state  of 
holy  discipline,  is  as  necessary  to  alter  the  disorder 
of  our  nature,  as  it  is  necessary  to  remove  any  dis- 
tempered habit  of  body. 

Let  it  be  considered,  that  the  corruption  of  our 
nature  is  but  very  w^eakly  represented  by  compar- 
ing it  to  those  distempers,  that  they  rather  express 
the  manner  of  its  cure,  and  the  necessity  of  labour- 
ing after  it,  than  set  forth  the  degree  of  the  disorder. 

For  a  man  in  these  distempers  may  have  only 
some  part  affected  with  them,  but  the  corruption  of 
our  natures  is  as  extensive  as  our  natures  :  it  is  the 
corruption  of  every  faculty  and  every  power  ;  it  is 
blindness  in  our  understandings ;  it  is  vanity  in  our 
wills  5  intemperance  in  our  appetites  ;  it  is  self-love, 
.anger,  lust,  pride,  and  revenge,  in  our  passions  ;  it 
is  falseness,  hypocrisy,  hatred,  and  malice  in  our 
hearts.  Now  all  this,  and  more  than  this,  makcfi 
.tfae  mrserable  corruption  of  human  nature. 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTiOX.  1G7 

So  that  it  is  necessary  that  our  lives  be  a  state  of 
regimen^  that  we  hve  by  such  rules  as  are  contrary 
to  this  variety  of  disorders,  as  it  is  necessary  for  a 
man  under  a  complication  of  habitual  distempers  to 
enter  into  a  course  of  regularity. 

I  suppose  it  will  be  readily  granted,  that  all  tem- 
pers are  increased  by  indulgence,  and  that  the  more 
we  yield  to  any  disposition,  the  stronger  it  grows  : 
it  is  therefore  certain,  that  self-denial  is  our  only 
cure,  and  that  we  must  practise  as  many  sorts  of 
self-denial,  as  we  have  ill  tempers  to  contend 
with. 

Pride,  hypocrisy,  vanity,  hatred,  and  detraction, 
are  all  disorderly  indulgences,  and  have  their  only 
cure  in  self-dcniai,  as  certainly  as  drunkenness  and 
sensuality. 

To  deny  onc'*s  self  all  hidulgences  of  pride  and 
vanity,  all  instances  of  falseness  and  hypocrisy,  of 
envy  and  spight,  requires  greater  care  and  watch- 
fulness, and  a  more  continual  self-denial,  than  to 
avoid  the  motives  to  intemperance. 

And  he  that  thinks  to  render  himself  humble  any 
©ther  way,  than  by  denying  himself  all  instances  of 
pride,  is  as  absurd  as  he  who  intends  to  be  solder, 
without  abstaining  from  all  degrees  of  intemperance. 
For  humility  as  truly  consists  in  the  practice  of  things 
that  are  humble^  ^'6  justice  consists  in  the  doing  things 
that  are  just. 

Every  virtue  is  but  a  mere  nanu\  and  empty 
sound,  till  it  shows  itself  by  an  abstinence  from  all 
indulgences  of  the  contrary  vices,  till  it  is  founded 
in  this  self-denial. 

Now  this  is  readily  granted  to  be  true  in  all  sen- 
sual vices,  that  they  are  only  to  be  cured  by  a  per- 
petual self-denial. 

But  the  practice  of  the  same  self-denial  is  as  ab- 
solutely required,  to  destroy  Qwovy  ill  temper  of  the 
mind,  as  any  sort  of  sensu;dity. 

Self-love,  pride,  vanity,  revenge,  hypocrisy,  and 


1B8  A    PFvACTlCAL  TREATISE 

malice,  are  acknowledged  to  be  very  gross  sin??,  an^ 
indeed  they  are  of  the  very  nature  of  the  devil,  and 
;'is  certainly  destroy  the  soul,  as  murder  and  adul- 
tery. 

But  the  misfortime  ii^  that  ■\^Te  go\Trn  ourselves 
in  these  tempers,  not  by  what  is  sinful  according  to 
rhe  principles  of  religion,  but  by  what  is  odious  in 
the  eyes  of  the  world.  We  do  not  labour  to  avoid 
ihe  sin,  but  are  content  to  avoid  what  is  sccmdalaus 
in  it. 

Thus  for  instance,  people  would  not  be  thought 
proud  ;  but  then  they  are  afraid  of  no  degrees  of  it, 
i3ut  such  as  the  world  condemns^:  they  do  not  form 
their  lives  by  the  Scripture-rules  of  humility,  but 
only  endeavour  to  be  decent  and  fashionable  in 
their  pride. 

Others  would  be  very  sorry  to  be  remarked  for 
an  envious  and  malicious  spirit,  who,  at  the  same 
time,  make  the  faults  of  their  acquaintance  the 
pleasure  of  their  lives,  and  turn  all  their  conversa- 
tion into  evil-speaking  and  detraction. 

Now  all  this  proceeds  from  hence,  that  they 
govern  themselves  by  the  spirit  of  the  world  :  the 
world  allows  of  evil-speaking  and  detraction,  and 
therefore  they  practise  it  openly,  though  it  is  as 
contrary  to  religion  as  murder  and  injustice. 

And  thus  it  will  be  wdth  all  these  wicked  tcm- 
]5ers,  till  we  practise  an  universal  self-denial,  and 
labour  after  a  religious  perfection  in  all  our  waj'^s 
of  life. 

We  are  certainly  under  habits  of  pride,  till  we  are 
governed  by  humiUty  ;  and  wc  are  not  governed 
by  humility,  till  we  deny  ourselves,  and  are  afraid 
of  every  aj^ipearance  of  pride,  till  we  are  willing  to 
comply  with  every  thing  and  every  state,  that  may 
preserve  and  secure  our  hutnility. 

No  man  i,'^  governed  ly  :\  religious  justice,  till  he 
is  exact  in  all  degrees  of  it  ;  till  he  denies  himself 
all  approaches  towards  injustice  ;  till  he  fears  and 


t9i»0N    CHRISTIAN   PERFECTION,  iGtl 

■^abhors  every  appearance  of  fraud  and  crafty  man- 
agement. 

Now  it  is  this  teniper  and  state  of  mind,  that  is 
the  measure  of  every  virtue. 

A  common  liar  may  hate  some  sort  of  lies  ;  an 
vnjust  man  may  avoid  some  sort  of  injustice  :  so  a 
proud  person  may  dislike  some  instances  of  pride  ; 
but  then  he  has  no  more  title  to  humility,  than  an 
unjust  man  has  a  title  to  integrity,  because  there 
arc  some  sorts  of  injustice  that  he  avoids. 

So  that  it  is  not  any  single  acts,  or  any  particular 
restraints  ;  but  it  is  an  uniform  state  and  temper  of" 
the  mind,  that  stands  constantly  disposed  to  every 
degree  of  humility,  and  averse  from  every  degree  of 
pride,  that  is  to  denominate  a  person  to  be  truly 
humble. 

To  measure  any  virtuous  temper  by  any  other 
standard  than  this,  is  not  to  measure  ourselves  by 
religion.  How  can  any  one  be  said  to  be  religiously 
chaste,  unless  he  abhors  and  avoids  all  instances  of 
lewdness  and  impurity  ?  How  could  he  be  said  to 
be  sincerely  pious,  unless  he  "was  fearful  of  eve'ry 
Occasion  of  sin  ? 

Must  it  not  therefore  be  the  same  in  humility  and 
every  other  virtue  ?  Can  any  one  be  reckoned  truly 
humble,  till  he  denies  himself  rt// instances  of  pride? 

Self-denial  therefore  is  so  Universally  necessary, 
that  it  is  the  foundation  of  every  virtue  t  humility 
and  charity  requiring  more  self-contradiction  and 
self-denial,  than  the  strictest  temperance. 

From  these  observations  we  may  be  able  to  pass 
a  true  judgment  upon  ourselves  as  to  our  state  of 
virtue.  If  we  arc  denying  ourselves,  w^e  are  so  far 
labouring  after  virtue  :  but  if  self-love.,  if  idleness  and 
indulgence,  be  the  state  of  our  lives,  we  may  be  sure 
that  we  are  as  distant  from  true  religion,  as  the  soi 
is  distant  from  strict  temperance. 

A  life  of  idleness,  indulgence,  and  self-love,  is  an 
entire  resignation  of  ourselves  to  every  vice,  excepA 

Id 


170  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

such  as  cannot  bo  t ommittcd  without  trouble  ;  and 
we  may  assure  ourselves,  that  if  we  are  in  this  state, 
we  are  not  only  strangers  to  virtue,  but  ready  for 
every  sin  that  suits  with  ease  and  softness. 

Persons  of  this  turn  of  mind,  lose  the  very  form 
of  piety,  and  find  it  too  great  a  contradiction  to  their 
idleness  to  comply  with  the  very  outward  appear- 
ance of  religion.  They  would  be  oftener  at  churchy 
but  it  may  be  their  seat  is  crowded,  and  they  can  sit 
with  more  ease  by  their  fire-side  at  home.  They 
would  be  more  exact  in  kneeling  when  they  are 
there,  if  they  had  always  the  same  ease  in  kneeling. 

I  mention  these  particulars,  as  only  small  instan- 
ces of  that  general  deadness  and  indisposition  to- 
wards all  parts  of  religion,  which  this  spirit  of  idle- 
ness and  indulgence  creates.  For  it  affects  people 
in  the  same  manner  as  to  every  other  part  of  their 
duty,  and  makes  them  incapable  of  attending  to  it. 
For  a  person,  that  is  too  idle  and  self-indulgent  to 
imdergo  the  constant  trouble  of  public  worship,  must 
be  at  a  great  distance  from  those  virtues,  w  hich  are 
to  be  acquired  by  care  and  roatchfiihiessj  which  are^ 
to  crucify  us  to  the  world,  and  make  us  alive  unto 
God. 

Ambition  and  worldly  cares  distract  the  mind, 
iftnd  fill  it  with  false  concerns  ;  but  even  these  tem- 
pers are  in  a  nearer  state  to  religion,  and  less  indis- 
pose the  soul  to  it,  than  idleness  and  indulgence. 
For  ambition  and  worldly  cares,  though  they  em- 
ploy the  mind  wrong,  yet  as  they  employ  it,  they 
preserve  some  degree  of  activity  in  it,  ^vhich  by 
some  means  or  other  may  happen  to  take  a  right 
turn  ;  but  idleness  and  indulgence  is  the  death  and 
burial  of  the  soul. 

I  have  been  more  particular  upon  this  temper, 
because  it  is  so  common,  and  even  acknowledged 
without  shame.  People,  who  would  not  be  thought 
reprobates,  are  yet  not  afraid  to  let  you  know  that 
tljey  hardly  do  any  thing  but  cat,  and  drink,   and 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION,  17t 

sleep^  and  take  such  diversions  as  suit  with  their 
ease  ;  whereas  if  such  a  state  of  life  be  examined 
by  the  rules  of  reason  and  rehgion,  it  will  appear 
as  dangerous  and  frightful,  as  any  other  reprobate 
state  of  sin.  For  it  is  a  state  that  nourishes  all  the 
corruptions  of  our  nature  ;  that  exposes  us  all  to  the 
vanity  of  the  world ;  that  resigns  us  up  to  all  the 
power  of  the  devil. 

Did  we  design  to  set  ourselves  in  the  fairest  pos- 
ture for  the  devil  to  hit  us,  we  ought  to  choose  that 
of  idleness  and  indulgence. 

Watch  and  pray,  saith  our  Saviour,  that  ye  fall 
not  into  temptation*  The  devil's  advice  is,  be  idle 
and  indulge,  and  then  ye  w'ill  yield  to  every  temp- 
tation. For  if  watching  and  prayer  have  any  ten- 
dency to  prevent  our  falling  into  temptation,  it  is 
certain  that  idleness  and  indulgence  must,  in 
an  equal  degree,  make  us  incapable  of  resisting 
them. 

To  return  :  as  certain  therefore  as  our  nature  is  in 
a  state  of  corruption,  as  certain  as  this  corruption 
consists  in  ill  tempers  and  inclinations  ;  so  certain 
is  it,  that  if  we  would  not  die  in  our  sins,  we  must 
enter  upon  such  a  course  of  life  as  is  a  state  of 
denial,  not  only  to  this  or  that,  but  to  all  those 
corrupt  tempers  and  inclinations. 

For  since  man  is  only  a  compound  of  corrupt  and 
disorderly  tempers,  it  is  as  necessary  to  deny  him- 
self, as  to  resist  evil  ;  and  he  is  indeed  only  so  far 
virtuous,  as  he  has  put  off  himself,  and  is  guided 
and  governed  by  another  spirit. 

When  we  speak  of  self-denial,  wc  are  apt  to  coir- 
fine  it  to  eating  and  drinking ;  but  we  ought  to  con- 
sider, that  though  a  strict  temperance  be  necessary 
in  these  things,  yet  these  are  the  easiest  and  smal- 
lest instances  of  self-denial ;  pride,  vanity,  self-love, 
covetousncss,  enVy,  and  other  inclinations  of  (he 
like  nature,  call  for  a  more  constant  and  watchful 
self-denial,  than  the  appetites  of  hunger  and  thirst* 


172  A     PRACTICAL    TREATtSt: 

Till  therefore  we  make  our  self-denial  as  universal 
^s  our  corrnplian ;  till  we  deny  ourselves  all  degrees 
of  vanity  and  folly,as  earnestly  as  we  deny  ourselves 
all  degrees  of  drunkenness  ;  till  we  reject  all  sort^ 
of  pride  and  envy,  as  we  abhor  all  kinds  of  glutto- 
ny ;  till  we  are  exact  in  all  degrees  of  humility, 
?is  we  are  exact  in  all  rules  of  temperance  ;  till  we 
watch  and  deny  all  irregulnr  tempers,  as  we  avoid 
all  sorts  of  sensuality,  we  can  no  more  be  said  to 
practise  self-denial,  than  he  can  be  said  to  be  just, 
who  only  denies  himself  the  liberty  of  stealing. 

And  till  we  do  enter  into  this  course  of  universal 
self-denial,  we  shall  make  no  progress  in  true  piety, 
but  our  lives  will  be  a  ridiculous  mixture  of  I  know 
not  what  :  sober  and  covetous,  proud  and  devout^ 
temperate  and  vain,  regular  in  our  forms  of  devo- 
tion, and  irregular  in  all  our  passions,  circumspect 
in  little  modes  of  behaviour,  and  careless  and  negli- 
gent of  tempers^  the  most  essential  to  piety. 

And  thus  it  will  necessarily  be  with  us,  till  we 
lay  the  axe  t©  the  root  of  the  tree ;  till  we  deny  and 
renounce  the  whole  corruption  of  our  nature,  and 
resign  ourselves  up  entirely  to  the  Spirit  of  God,  to 
ihink,  and  speak,  and  act,  by  the  wisdom  and  purity 
of  religion. 

Let  it  be  supposed,  that  religion  required  us  to 
forget  a  language  that  we  loved  and  had  been  bred 
in,  and  constantly  to  speak  in  a  language  that  was 
new  and  difficult* 

Could  we  possibly  forget  our  former  language 
that  we  loved,  and  was  natural  to  us,  any  other  way 
than  by  denying  ourselves  the  liberty  of  ever  spea- 
king it? 

Could  we  forget  it  by  only  forbearing  to  use  it  on 
some  particular  occasions  ?  Would  it  not  be  as  neces- 
sary to  abstain  from  thinking,  reading,  and  writing 
in  it,  as  to  abstain  from  using  it  in  conversation  ? 
Could  we  render  our  new  language  any  other  way 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  17-3 

habitual  or  natural  to  us,  than  by  making  it  the 
language  of  all  seasons. 

Mow  this  may  teach  us  the  absolute  necessity  of 
an  universal  self-denial,  for  though  religion  docs  not 
command  us  to  part  with  an  old  language  that  we 
love,  yet  it  commands  us  to  part  with  an  old  nature. 
and  to  live  and  act  by  a  new  heart  and  a  new 
spirit. 

Now  can  we  think  to  part  with  an  old  nature,  by 
fewer  rules  of  abstinence,  than  are  necessary  to  get 
rid  of  an  old  language  ?  Must  we  not  deny  our- 
selves the  liberty  of  ever  acting  according  to  it  ? 
Can  we  get  rid  of  it,  by  only  denying  it  in  particu- 
lar instances  ?  Must  it  not  be  as  necessary  to 
abstain  from  all  its  ways  of  thinking  and  wishing, 
liking  and  disliking,  as  to  practise  any  abstinence 
at  all  ?  For  if  the  whole  is  to  be  changed,  if  a  new 
heart  is  to  be  obtained,  we  are  doing  nothing,  w^hilst 
we  only  renounce  it  in  part,  and  can  no  more  be 
said  to  live  by  a  new  heart,  than  they  can  be  said 
to  speak  only  a  new  language,  whose  general  con- 
versation is  in  their  old  natural  tongue. 

Indeed,  a  little  attention  to  the  nature  of  man, 
and  the  nature  of  Christianity,  w^ill  soon  convince 
us  that  self-denial  is  the  very  substance,  the  begin^ 
ning  and  ending  of  all  our  virtues.     For, 

First,  Christianity  is  the  e?<reof  the  corruption  oj 
our  natural  state.  Now  what  is  the  corruption  of 
our  natural  state  ?  Why  it  consists  cliiefly  in  tem- 
pers and  passions,  and  inclinations  that  fix  us  to  bodily 
and  earthly  enjoyments,  as  to  our  proper  good. 

Now  how  is  it  that  Christianity  cureth  this  cor- 
ruption of  our  nature  ?  Why  it  cureth  this  corrup- 
tion of  our  nature,  by  teaching  us  to  live  and  act 
by  principles  of  reason  and  religion. 

What  are  these  principles  of  reason  and  reli- 
gion ? 

They  are  such  as  these  : 

First,  That  God  is  our  only  good ;  that  we  cannot 

15^* 


174  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

possibly  be  happy,  but  in  such  enjoyment  of  him  as 
he  is  pleased  to  communicate  to  us. 

Secondly,  That  our  souls  are  immortal  spirits, 
that  are  here  only  in  a  state  of  trial  and  prohation* 

Thirdly,  That  we  must  all  appear  before  the 
judgment-seat  of  God,  to  receive  the  sentence  of 
eternal  life,  or  eternal  death. 

These  are  the  chief  principles  of  reason  and  reli- 
gion^ by  which  every  Christian  is  to  live  ;  judging 
and  thinking,  choosing  and  avoiding,  hoping  and 
fearing,  loving  and  hating,  according  to  these  prin- 
ciples^ as  becomes  a  creature,  that  is  sent  hither  to 
prepare  himself  to  live  with  God  in  everlasting 
happiness. 

Now  who  does  not  see,  that  this  resolves  all  our 
religion  into  a  state  of  self-denial,  or  contradiction 
to  our  natural  state  ? 

For  first,  what  can  be  a  greater  self-denial,  or 
more  contradictory  to  all  our  habitual  notions,  and 
natural  sentiments,  that  to  live  and  govern  ourselves 
by  a  happiness  that  is  to  be  had  in  God  alone  ?  A 
happiness,  which  our  senses,  our  old  guides,  neither 
see,  nor  feel,  nor  taste,  nor  perceive  ?  A  happi- 
.^less,  which  gives  us  neither  figure  nor  dignity, 
nor  equipage,  nor  power,  nor  glory  amongst  one 
another  ? 

Look  at  man  in  his  natural,  state,  acting  by  the 
judgment  of  his  senses,  following  the  motions  of  his 
nature,  and  you  will  see  him  acting  as  if  the  world 
was  full  of  infinite  sorts  of  happiness. 

He  has  not  only  a  thousand  imaginary  pleasures 
but  has  found  out  as  many  vexations,  all  which 
show,  that  he  thinks  happiness  is  every-where  to  be 
found,  for  no  one  is  vexed  at  any  thing,  but  where 
he  thinks  he  is  disappeinted  of  some  possible  hap- 
jj^iness. 

•  The  happiness,  therefore  of  religion,  which  is  a 
liappincss  in  God  alone,  is  a  great  contradiction  to 
Skll  our  natural  and  habitual  tempers  and-  opiniong^ 


UPON    CHRISTIAN  PERFECTION'.  1  7o'^ 

not  only  as  it  proposes  a  good,  which  our  senses 
cannot  relish,  but  as  it  leads  us  from  all  those  im- 
aginary enjoyments,  upon  which  our  senses  have 
fixed  our  hearts. 

To  think  of  religion  in  any  other  sense,  than  as  a 
state  of  self-denial^  is  knowing  nothing  at  all  of  it  ; 
for  its  whole  nature  is  to  direct  us  by  a  light,  and 
knowledge,  and  wisdom,  from  God,  which  is  all 
contrary  to  the  darkness,  ignorance,  and  folly  of 
our  natures. 

It  is  therefore  altogether  impossible  for  any  man 
to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  religion  but  by  denying 
himself,  by  renouncing  all  his  natural  tempers  and 
judgments,  which  have  been  formed  by  the  blind 
motions  of  flesh  and  blood,  and  strengthened  by 
the  example  and  authority  of  the  world.  He  can- 
not walk  in  the  light  of  God,  but  by  rejecting  the 
dreams  of  his  senses,  the  visions  of  his  own  thoughts, 
and  the  darkness  of  worldly  wisdom. 

We  may  let  our  senses  tell  us,  what  we  arc  to  eat 
and  drink,  or  when  we  are  to  sleep  ;  we  ma^?"  let 
them  teach  us  how  near  we  may  draw  to  a  fire,  how 
great  a  burden  we  may  carry,  or  into  how  deep  a 
water  we  may  go  :  in  these  things  they  are  our 
proper  guides. 

But  if  we  appeal  to  them  to  know  the  true  good 
of  man,  or  the  proper  happiness  of  our  rational  na- 
ture ;  if  we  ask  them  what  guilt  there  is  in  sin,  or 
what  excellence  there  is  in  piety  ;  if  we  consult 
them  as  our  guides  and  instructors  in  these  matters, 
we  act  as  absurdly  as  if  we  were  to  try  to  hear  with 
our  eyes,  or  see  with  our  ears. 

For  our  senses  are  no  more  fitted  to  tell  us  our 
trite  good,  as  we  are  Christians  and  rational  crea- 
tures, than  our  eyes  are  fitted  to  instruct  us  in 
sounds,  or  our  ears  in  sights. 

Religion  therefore  has  just  so  much  power  over 
us,  as  it  has  power  over  our  yiatnral  tempers,  and 
the  judgment  of  our  senses  ;  so  far  as  it  has  made 


17G  A  PRACTICAL    TREATISE- 

US  deny  ourselves,  and  reject  the  opinions  and  judg-N 
ments  of  tlcsli  and  blood,  so  far  has  it  settled  its 
power  within  us. 

Hence  appears  the  absolute  necessity  of  our  Sa- 
viour's proposal  to  mankind,  If  any  man  will  come 
after  ?we,  let  him  deny  himself  andfollozo  me. 

For  it  plainly xappears  from  the  nature  of  the 
thing,  that  no  man  can  follow  Christ  or  walk  in  the 
light  that  he  walked  in,  but  by  denying  himself  and 
walking  contrary  to  the  darkness  and  errors  of  his 
own  heart  and  mind. 

All  our  ways  of  thinking  and  judging  of  the  na- 
ture and  value  of  things,  are  corrupted  with  the 
grossness  and  errors  of  our  senses* 

We  judge  of  every  thing  in  the  same  manner 
that  the  child  judges  of  his  playthings  ;  that  is,  it  is 
by  our  senses  alone  that  we  pass  the  judgment, 
though  we  act  with  the  reason  of  men* 

The  world  is  made  up  of  fine  sights,  equipage^ 
sports,  show  and  pageantry,  which  please  and  cap- 
tivate the  minds  of  men,  because  men  have  yet  the 
minds  of  children,  and  are  just  the  same  slaves  to 
their  senses  that  children  are. 

As  children  and  men  see  the  same  colours  in 
things,  so  children  and  men  feel  the  same  sensible 
pleasures,  and  are  affected  with  external  objects  in 
the  same  manner. 

But  the  misfortune  is,  that  we  laugh  at  the  little 
pleasures,  poor  designs,  and  trifling  san''ifactions  of 
children,  whilst  at  the  same  time,  the  wisdom,  the 
ambition,  and  greatness  of  men,  are  visibly  taken 
up  with  the  same  triiles. 

A  coach-and-six,  and  an  embroidered  suit,  shall 
make  a  ji^reat  statesman  as  happy  as  ever  a  go-cart 
and  feather  made  a  child. 

When  a  man  thinks  how  happy  he  shall  be  with 
a  great  estate,  he  has  all  the  same  thoughts  come 
into  his  head  that  a  child  has,  when  he  thinks  what 
^e  would  do  with  a  great  sum  of  money ;  he  would 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PBRFECTIGK.  1^77 

\)uy  twenty  little  horses,  he  would  have  twenty  fine 
coats,  and  see  all  fine  sights,  and  the  like. 

Now  do  but  promise  a  man  a  great  estate,  and 
you  will  raise  all  these  same  thoughts  and  designs 
in  his  mind. 

Now  whence  can  ail  this  proceed,  but  from  this, 
that  men  act  with  the  same  vanity  of  mind,  are  un- 
der the  sR.me  poor  guidance  of  their  senses,  are  as 
ignorant  of  their  true  happiness,  as  great  strangers 
to  their  own  nature,  and  as  far  from  a  true  sense  of 
their  relation  to  God  as  when  they  first  set  out  in 
life.  "  • 

And  is  not  this  a  plain  argument  of  the  reason- 
ableness and  necessity  of  self-denial  ?  For  to  in- 
dulge ourselves,  and  live  according  to  our  natural 
tempers  and  Judgments,  is  to  grow  old  in  the  follies 
of  childhood.  And  to  deny  ourselves,  is  to  save 
ourselves,  as  it  is  denying  such  tempers  and  judg- 
ments as  are  contrary  to  our  eternal  happiness. 

To  proceed  :  Let  us  take  another  view  of  the 
weakness  and  disorder  of  our  nature,  that  we  may 
still  see  a  greater  necessity  of  not  walking  accord- 
ing to  it. 

AVhen  we  see  people  drunk^  or  in  a  violent  pas- 
sion, we  readily  own,  that  they  are,  so  long  as  that 
continues,  in  a  state  of  delusion^  thinking,  saying, 
and  doing,  irregular  things  by  the  mere  force  of 
their  blood  and  spirits.  In  these  states,  we  all  see 
and  acknowledge  the  power  of  our  bodies  over  our 
reason,  and  never  suppose  a  man  capable  of  judg- 
ing or  acting  wisely,  so  long  as  he  is  under  the  vio- 
lence o{  passion,  or  heated  with  drink. 

Now  this  is  more  or  less  the  constant  state  of  al^ 
mankind,  who  are,  by  bodily  impressions,  and  the 
agitations  of  the  blood  and  spirits,  in  the  same  kind 
of  r/<'/>/5rm,  as  mm  that  are  dnink^  or  in  a  passion, 
though  not  always  in  the  same  de2:ree. 

A  man  that  is  drunk  has  hr-^tcd  his  blood  to  that 
C^cgree,  that  it  sends  up  spirits  to  the  brain  in  loo 


178  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

violent  a  motion,  and  in  too  great  a  quantity.  This 
violent  motion  of  the  spirits  raises  so  many  ideas  in 
the  brain,  and  in  so  disorderly  a  manner,  that  the 
man  is  every  minute  different  from  himself,  as  fast 
as  different,  or  new  ideas,  are  raised  in  his  head, by 
the  iinpetuQiis  course  of  the  spirits.  This  is  the 
ilisorder  of  a  man  tliat  is  drunk. 

Now  this  is  the  state  of  all  people,  more  or  less, 
when  they  appear  to  one  another  as  sober. 

For  first  drunkenness  is  a  state  of  disorder  and 
delusion,  because  our  heads  arc  thon  filled  with  a 
crowd  of  ideas,  which  w^e  have  little  or  no  power 
over,  and  which,  for  that  reason,  distract  our  judg- 
ment. 

Now  this  is,  in  a  certain  degree,  the  state  of  all 
men  wdiilst  they  are  in  the  body :  the  constitution 
ef  our  bodies,  and  our  commerce  with  the  world,  is 
constantly  filling  our  heads  with  ideas  and  thoughts, 
that  we  have  little  or  no  power  over,  but  intrude 
upon  our  minds,  alter  our  opinions,  and  affect  our 
judgments  in  the  same  manner  as  they  disorder  the 
minds  of  those  that  are  drunk. 

Let  any  one  but  try  to  meditate  upon  any  of  the 
most  important  doctrines  of  religion,  and  he  w^ill 
find  the  truth  of  this  observation  ;  he  will  find  a 
thousand  ideas  crowd  in  upon  him,  in  spight  of  all 
his  care  to  avoid  them,  which  will  hinder  his  medi- 
tation, and  prevent  his  seeing  things  in  that  light 
in  which  he  w^ould  see  them,  if  his  mind  was  empty 
of  other  thoughts. 

Now  it  is  the  same  cause  that  hinders  him  from 
thinking  so  well  as  he  would,  that  hinders  the 
drunken  man  from  thinking  at  all,  that  is,  an  invo- 
luntary  succession  of  ideas* 

So  that  every  man,  so  long  as  he  is  in  the  body, 
is,  in  some  degree,  weak  and  disordered  in  his  judg- 
ment, in  the  same  manner,  and  for  the  same  causes, 
as  people  that  are  drunk. 

Sacondly  ;  Another  circumstance;  of  drunhnnesSx 


A     PRACTICAL   TREATISE  179 

IS  this,  that  ideas  and  thoughts  ore  raised  in  a 
disorderly  manner,  because  the  blood  is  too  much 
heated. 

Now  this  is  another  constant  circumstance  that 
attends  men  in  every  state  of  life. 

For  first,  it  is  the  same  thing  whether  our  spirits 
be  heated  with  liquor,  or  any  thing  else  ;  if  they  are 
heated  all  the  same  eti'ects  are  produced. 

This  is  undenied^ly  true,  because  we  daily  sec 
that  passion  will  heat  and  disorder  people  in  the 
same  manner  as  they  who  are  inflamed  with  liquor. 

Therefore  our  own  thoughts  and  imaginations 
have  the  same  effect  upon  our  spirits  as  drink ;  so 
that  it  is  the  same  thing  whether  a  man  be  drunk 
with  passion,  or  any  other  violent  set  of  thoughts, 
or  heated  with  liquor.  There  is  the  same  w  eakness 
of  mind,  the  same  disordered  imagination,  and  the 
same  wrong  apprehension  of  the  nature  of  things. 

Now  though  all  people  are  not  at  all  times  drunk 
with  passion^  or  some  violent  imagination,  yet  they 
are  always  in  a  disorder  of  the  same  kind  ;  they 
have  something  that  aficcts  and  hurries  their  spirit*, 
in  the  same  manner  that  a  man's  spirits  are  affected 
in  some  violent  passion. 

And  the  reason  is,  because  men  are  always  in 
•some  passion  or  other,  though  not  to  that  degree  as 
to  be  visible,  and  give  offence  to  other  people. 

We  are  always  in  a  state  either  of  self-love, 
vanity,  pride,  hatred,  spight,  envy,  covetousness,  or 
ambition  ;  some  one  or  other  of  these  passions  is,  in 
some  degree,  affecting  our  spirits,  in  the  same 
manner  that  any  violent  passion,  or  heat  of  liquor, 
affects  our  spirits,  differing  only  in  the  degree. 

A  silent  envy,  a  secret  vanity,  which  nobody  sees, 
raises  thoughts  in  our  heads,  and  disorders  our 
judgments,  in  the  same  maimer  as  more  violent 
passions. 

We  may  increase  the  vanity  and  envy,  till  it  ends 
ift  distraction  and  madness,  as  it  sometimes  hap- 


180  UPON   CHRlSTlAli/   PERFECTION'. 

pens  ;  but  then  we  may  be  sure,  that  it  disordered 
our  understanding  in  the  same  manner  and  made  us 
"foolish  and  extra vagAnt  in  some  degree,  long  before 
it  came  to  madness.  Whilst,  therefore,  we  are  in 
the  body,  we  are  constantly  in  a  state  of  disorder, 
like  to  those  who  are  drunk,  or  in  a  violent  passion  ; 
we  have  some  passion  or  other,  either  of  self-love^ 
vanity,  envy  or  the  like,  that  aflects  our  spirits, 
and  disorders  our  judgment,  in  the  same  manner-, 
though  not  in  the  same  degree,  as  their  spirits  are 
aliecied  who  are  in  the  heat  of  drink,  or  in  some 
violent  passion. 

Thirdly,  Another  circumstance  of  drunkenness  is- 
this,  that  it  forms  us  to  a  taste  and  temper  peculiar 
to  it,  so  as  to  leave  a  dulness  and  indisposition  in 
the  mind  toward  any  thing  else.  A  habitual 
drunkard  has  no  pleasure  like  that  confused  hurry 
and  heat  of  thoughts  that  arises  from  inflamed 
blood.  The  repeating  of  this  pleasure  so  often  has 
given  him  a  turn  of  mind,  that  relishes  nothing 
but  what  relates  to  intemperance. 

Now  this  is  the  state  of  all  people,  in  some  re- 
spect or  other ;  there  is  some  way  of  life  that  has 
got  hold  of  them,  and  given  them  a  taste  and  relish 
for  it,  in  the  same  manner  that  drinking  has  formed 
the  drunkard  to  a  peculiar  liking  of  it.  All  people 
are  not  intemperate,  but  all  are  under  habits  of  life^ 
that  aiiect  the  mind  in  the  same  manner  as  intempe- 
rance. 

Some  people  have  indulged  themselves  so  lon^ 
in  dressings  others  in  pfoy^  others  in  sports  of  the 
held,  others  only  in  little  gossiping'  sto7'ies^  that  thej 
are  as  much  slaves  to  these  ways  of  life,  as  the  in- 
temperate man  is  a  slave  to  liquor. 

Now  we  readily  own,  that  a  man  who  has  en* 
slaved  himself  to  the  pleasures  of  drinking^  and  in- 
temperance, has  thereby  rendered  himself  incapa- 
ble of  being  a  reasonable  judge  of  other  happiness 
and  pleasure  ;  but  then  we  do  not  enough  consider, 


tJrO\    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  l8l 

'liat  wc  are  hurt  in  llie  same  manner,  by  any  other 
way  of  life  that  has  taken  hold  of  us,  and  given  us 
:.i  temper,  and  turn  of  mind,  peculiar  to  it. 

It  is  to  as  little  purpose  to  talk  of  religion,  or  the 
happiness  of  piety,  to  a  person  that  is  fond  of  drcss^ 
Or  plaij-i  or  sjjorts^  as  to  another  that  is  intempe- 
rate :  for  the  pleasures  of  these  particular  ways  of 
life  make  him  as  deaf  to  all  other  proposals  of  hap- 
piness, and  ^s  incapable  of  judging  of  other  happi- 
ness and  pleasure,  as  he  who  is  enslaved  to  intem- 
perance. 

A  lady  abominates  a  sot^  as  a  creature  that  has 
only  the  shape  of  a  man  ;  but  then  she  docs  riOt 
consider,  that,  drunken  as  he  is,  perhaps  he  can  be 
more  content  with  the  want  of  UfjUoy\  than  she  can 
Vr'ith  the  want  oi  fine  clothes:  and  if  this  1;C  her 
^ase,  she  only  diflers  from  him  as  one  intemperate 
inan  differs  from  another. 

Thus  it  appears,  that  whether  we  consider  the 
nature,  circumstances,  and  effects  of  drunkenness, 
that  all  mankind  are,  more  or  less,  in  the  same  state 
of  weakness  and  disorder. 

1  have  dwelt  the  longer  upon  this  comparison, 
because  it  seems  so  easily  to  explain  the  disorder 
of  our  nature.  For  as  every  one  readily  sees  how 
the  bodily  disorders  of  drunkenness,  and  violent, 
passion,  blind  and  pervert  our  minds  ;  so  it  seems 
an  easy  step  from  thence  to  imagine  how  the  body, 
though  in  a  cooler  stafe^  does  yet  disorder  the  mind 
in  the  same  manner,  though  not  in  the  same  de- 
grees. It  is  also  easy  to  conceive,  that  if  violent 
passion^  or  a  heated  imagination,  confounds  our 
judgments,  and  gives  us  wrong  apprehensions  of 
things,  that  therefore  all  passions^  though  more  stil! 
and  secret,  must  yet  influence  om*  minds,  and  make 
us  weak  and  disordered  in  our  judgments  ;  in  the 
same  manner,  though  not  in  tiie  same  degree,  as 
those  are  who  are  in  a  violent  passion.     So  that  the 

16 


I  8:2  A    PRACTICAL  TREATISE 

tneancst  capacity  may,  by  this,  apprehend,  that  s*o 
long  as  wc  are  in  the  body,  we  arc  in  a  state  of 
weakness  and  disorder  that  is  full  of  such  blindness 
raid  delusion,  as  attends  a  state  of  drunkenness  and 
passion. 

It  is  intended,  by  this  account  of  human  nature, 
to  convince  us  of  the  absolute  necessity  of  renounc- 
ing ourselves,  of  denying  all  our  tempers  and  incli- 
nations, and  resigning  ourselves  wholly  to  the  light 
and  w^isdom  of  God.  For  since,  by  our  state  of 
corruption  and  slavery  to  the  body,  we  are  always 
linder  the  power  of  its  blind  motions  ;  since  all  our 
inclinations  and  judgments  arc  only  the  judgments 
of  heated  blood,  drunken  spirits,  and  disordered 
passions,  we  arc  under  as  absolute  a  necessity  of 
•denying  all  our  natural  tempers  and  judgments  as 
of  refraining  from  intemperance. 

For  must  a  man,  that  is  in  a  fit  of  violent  paS' 
sion,  silence  that  passion  before  he  can  judge  of  the 
ordinary  things  of  life  ?  Is  it  a  state  of  such  blindness 
as  makes  him  blind  in  the  plainest  matters,  and 
unable  to  judge  rightly,  even  of  things  w^hich  he  is 
acquainted  with  ?  And  can  we  think,  that  our  more 
still  and  secret  passions  of  self-love,  pride,  vanitj^, 
envy,  and  the  like,  mi^ke  us  less  blind  as  to  the 
things  of  God,  than  a  heated  passion  does  as  to  the 
things  of  this  world  ? 

Will  an  inflamed  passion  disorder  a  man  too 
much  to  judge  of  any  thing,  even  in  his  own  busi- 
ness ?  And  will  not  a  passion  of  less  violence  disor- 
der a  man's  judgment  in  things  of  a  spiritual  nature, 
which  he  never  was  rightly  accjualnted  with,  which 
He  never  saw,  or  understood,  in  the  manner  that  he 
ought,  and  which  are  all  contrary  to  the  impression 
of  his  senses  ? 

Every  one  sees  people  in  the  world,  whom  he 
takes  to  be  incapable  of  5o/j<>r  judgments,  and  -' ise 
reflections,  for  this  reason ;  because  he  sees   that 


UPON   CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  18^1 

they  are  full  of  themselves,  blinded  with  prejudice, 
violent  in  their  passions,  wild  and  extravagant  in 
their  imaginations. 

Now  as  often  as  we  see  these  people,  we  should 
rcHect  that  we  see  ourselves  ;  for  we  as  certainly  see 
a  true  representation  of  ourselves,  when  we  look  at 
such  people,  as  we  sec  a  true  picture  of  our  state, 
when  we  sec  a  man  in  the  sorrows  and  agonies  of 
death. 

You  are  not  dyins  as  this  man  is ;  you  arc  not  in 
his  state  of  sickness  and  extremity  ;  but  still  his 
state  shows  you  your  own  true  picture  ;  it  shows 
you,  that  your  life  is  in  the  midst  of  death  ;  that  you 
have  in  you  the  seeds  of  sickness  and  mortalit}^  ; 
that  you  are  dying,  though  not  in  his  degree  ;  and 
that  you  are  only  at  a  little  uncertain  distance  from 
those  who  are  lying  upon  their  last  1>eds. 

When  therefore  you  see  men  livins;  in  the  disor- 
der of  their  passions,  blhided  with  prejudices, 
swelling  in  pride,  full  of  themselves,  vain  in  tlieir 
imaginations,  and  perverse  in  their  tempers,  you 
must  believe  that  you  see  as  true  a  representation 
of  your  own  state,  as  if  you  saw  a  man  in  his  last 
sickness. 

You,  it  may  be,  are  not  in  the  extravagance  of 
his  disordered  tempers,  you  are  at  some  uncertain 
distance  from  his  state  ;  but  if  you  fanc}^  that  you 
are  not  corrupted  with  setf-love,  not  W'eakened  by 
prejudices,  not  blinded  with  pride,  not  vain  in  vour 
imaginations,  not  ridiculous  in  your  temper,"  be- 
cause you  are  not  in  such  disorders  as  you  find 
some  people,  you  think  as  absurdly  as  if  you  waste 
imagine  yourself  to  be  immortah  liecause  you  are 
not  in  that  extremity  of  death  in  which  you  see 
some  people. 

And  as  the  true  way  of  knowing,  and  beins; 
rightly  aflfected  with  the  weakness  and  mortality  of 
our  state,  is  frequently  to  view  the  condition  of 
dying  men  as  pictures  of  ourselves  5  so   the   most 


184  A  PRACTICAL  TREATISE 

likely  means  to  aifect  us  with  a  just  sense  of  t\iz^ 
eorruption  and  disorder  of  our  hearts,  is  to  consider 
the  frailties,  corruptions,  and  disorders  of  other- 
people,  as  certain  representations  of  the  frailty  and 
corruption  of  our  own  state. 

When,  therefore,  you  see  the  violence  of  other 
men''s  passions,  the  irregularity  of  their  tempers^ 
the  strength  of  their  prejudices,  the  folly  of  their 
inclinations,  and  the  vanity  of  their  minds,  remem- 
ber that  you  see  so-  many  plain  reasons  for  denying 
yourself,  and  resisting  your  own  nature,  which  hag 
in  it  the  seeds  of  all  those  evil  tcmpcrB  which  you 
me  in  the  most  irregular  people. 

From  the  foregoing  reflections  upon  human  na- 
ture, we  may  learn  thus  much,  that  abstinence,  as 
io  eating  and  drinking,  is  but  a  small  part  of  Chris- 
tian self-denial. 

The  corruption  of  our  nature  has  its  chief  seat  in 
the  irregularity  of  our  tempers,  the  violence  of  pas- 
sions, the  blindness  of  our  judgments,  and  the  va- 
nity of  our  minds  ;  it  is  as  dangerous,  therefore,  ta 
indulge  these  tempers  as  to  live  in  gluttony  and 
intemperance. 

You  think  it  shameful  to  be  an  epicure  ;  you 
would  not  be  suspected  to  be  fond  of  li(j'uor  ;  you 
think  these  tempers  would  too  much  spoil  all  your 
pretences  to  religion  :  you  are  very  right  in  your 
judgment  ;  but  then  proceed  a  step  farther,  and 
think  it  as  shameful  to  be  fondof  dress,  or  delighted- 
Vvith  yourself,  as  to  be  fond  of  dainties  :  and  that  it 
is  as  great  a  sin  to  please  any  corrupt  tem]/er  of 
your  heart  as  to  please  your  paJaie  :  remember^ 
that  blood,  heated  with  passion,  is  like  blood  heated 
with  Hfjiwr  ;  and  that  the  grossness  of  gluttony  is 
no  greater  a  contrariety  to  religion  than  the  polite- 
ness of  pride,  and  the  vanity  of  our  minds. 

I  have  been  the  longer  upon  this  subject,  trying- 
every  way  to  represent  the  weakness  and  corrup- 
tion of  our  nature  ;  because  so  far  as  we  rightly 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  135 

understand  it,  so  far  we  see  into  the  rcasonal)leness 
and  necessity  of  all  religious  duties.  If  we  fancy 
ourselves  to  be  wise  and  regular  in  our  tempers 
and  judgments,  we  can  see  no  reason  for  denying 
ourselves  ;  but  if  we  find  that  our  whole  nature  is 
ia  disorder,  that  our  light  is  darkness,  our  wisdom 
foolishness,  that  our  tempers  and  judgments  are  as 
gross  and  blind  as  our  appetites,  that  our  senses 
govern  us  as  they  govern  children,  that  our  ambi- 
tion and  greatness  is  taken  up  with  gezogaws  and 
irifes^  that  the  state  of  our  bodies  is  a  state  of  error 
and  delusion,  like  that  of  drunkenness  and  passion. 

If  we  see  ourselves  in  this  true  light,  we  shall 
see  the  whole  true  reason  of  Christian  self-dewaU 
of  meekness,  and  poverty  of  spirit,  of  putting  oft* 
our  old  man,  of  renouncing  our  whole  selves,  that 
we  may  see  all  things  in  God  ;  of  Vatching  and 
pra3^er,  and  mortifying  all  our  inclinations,  that  our 
hearts  may  be  moved  by  a  motion  from  God,  and 
our  wills  and  inclinations  be  directed  by  the  light 
and  wisdom  of  religion. 

Religion  has  little  or  no  hold  of  us,  till  v^^e  have 
these  right  apprehensions  of  ourselves ;  it  may  serve 
for  a  little  decency  of  outward  behaviour,  but  it  is 
not  the  religion  of  our  hearts,  till  we  feel  the  weak- 
ness and  disorder  of  our  nature,  and  embrace  piety 
and  devotion,  as  the  means  of  recovering  us  to  a 
state  of  perfection  and  happiness  in  God. 

A  man  that  thinks  himself  in  health  cannot  la- 
ment the  sickness  of  It's  state. 

If  we  are  pleased  with  the  pride  and  vanity  of 
our  minds,  if  we  live  in  pleasure  and  self-satisfac- 
tions, we  shall  feel  no  meaning  in  our  devotionS; 
when  we  lament  the  misery  and  corruption  of  our 
nature.  We  may  have  times  and  places  to  mourn 
for  sins  ;  but  we  shall  feel  no  more  inward  grief 
than  hired  monrntrs  do  at  a  funeral. 

So  that  as  the  corruption  of  our  nature  is  the 
foundation  and  reason   of  self-denial,  so  a  right 

16* 


186  A    PRACTICAL    TREATi>f 

sense  and  feeling  of  that  corruption  is  necessary  to. 
make  us  rightly  affected  with  the  otrices  and  devo- 
tion of  religion. 

1  shall  now  show,  that  the  reasonableness  and 
necessity  of  self-denial  is  also  founded  upon  another 
fundamental  doctrine  of  religion,  namely,  the  ntces- 
sily  of  divine  grace,  which  1  shall  leave  to  ha  the 
subject  of  the  following  chapter. 


CHAP.  IX. 

Of  the  Necessity  of  (lixine   Graccy  and   the   screral 
Duties  to  zvhich  it  calleth  all  Christians. 

I  come  now  to  another  article  of  our  religion-, 
namely,  the  absolute  necessity  of  divine  grace,  which 
is  another  universal  and  constant  reason  of  self- 
denial. 

The  invisible  operation  and  assistance  of  God*s 
Tloly  Spirit,  by  which  we  are  disposed  towards 
that  which  is  good,  and  made  able  to  perform  it,  is 
a  confessed  doctrine  of  Christianity. 

Our  natural  life  is  preserved  by  some  union  with 

God,  who  is  the  fountain  of  life  to  all  the  creation^ 

to  which   union  we  are  altogether   strangers  ;  we 

find   that   we  are    alive,  as  we  find  that  we  think  ; 

but  how,  or  by  what  influence  from  God  our  life  is 

supported,  is  a  secret  into  which  we  cannot  enter. 

It  is   the   same  thing  with  relation  to  our  spiritunl 

life,  or  life  of  grace  ;  it  arises  from   some  inxisibU 

union  with  God,  or  divine  influence,  which,  in  this 

state  of  life,  we  cannot  comprehend.     Our  blessed 

Saviour  saith,  Tlie  zvind  hUrveth  ivhere  it  listeth,  and 

thou  hear  est  the  sound  thereof,  hut  canst     t^i  _    •••     « 

„     ,  .  .7-77-7         John    ni.   D., 

not  tell  ichence  it  comeih,  and  wliither 

it  goeth  ;  so  is  every  one  that  is  horn  of  God.     This 

shows  us  how  ignorant  we  are  of  the  manner  of  the 


UrON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION-.  1S7 

opcraiion  of  the  Ilolj  Spirit ;  wc  may  Iccl  its  e  iTocts, 
as  we  may  perceive  the  effects  of  the  wuid,  but  are 
as  much  strangers  to  its  manner  cf  coming  upon  us, 
as  we  are  strangers  to  that  exact  point  from  whence 
the  W'ind  begins  to  blow,  and  where  it  will  cease. 

The  Spirit  of  God  is  like  the  nature  of  God,  too 
high  for  our  conceptions,  whilst  we  are  in  these 
dark  houses  of  claj^.  But  our  blessed  Saviour  has, 
in  some  degree,  helped  our  conceptions  in  this  mat- 
ter, by  the  manner  of  his  giving  the  Holy  Spirit  to 
his  disciples*  And  he  breathed  on  them^  and  said 
unto  them^  receive  the  Holy  Ghost,  Now  by  this 
ceremony  of  breathing,  we  are  taught  to  conceive 
of  the  communications  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  with 
some  likeness  to  breath  or  Avind,  that  its  influences 
come  upon  us  in  some  manner,  most  like  to  a  gen- 
tle breathing  of  the  air.  Representations  of  this 
kind  are  only  made  in  compliance  with  the  v  eak- 
ness  of  our  apprehensions,  which  not  being  abie  to 
conceive  things  as  they  are  in  their  own  nature, 
must  be  instructed,  by  comparing  them  to  such 
things  as  our  senses  are  acquainted  with,  'i'hus 
the  zcisdoi7i  and  knowledo^e  that  is  revealed  from 
God  is  compared  to  /(e^/i/,  not  because  light  is  a 
true  representation  of  the  wisdom  of  God,  but  be- 
cause it  serves  best  to  represent  it  to  our  low  capa* 
cities.  In  like  manner  the  infuences  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  are  set  forth  by  the  ceremony  of  breathing 
upon  us  ;  not  because  breathy  or  (ih\  or  ji-mt/,  nre 
true  representations  of  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit,  but 
because  they  are  the  propercst  representations  that 
yet  fall  within  our  knowledge* 

But  that  which  is  nriost  necessary  fcr  us  to  know, 
and  of  which  we  are  sufficiently  infoi-m.ed  in  Scrip- 
ture is  the  absolute  necessity  cf  this  divine  assis- 
tance. 

We  are  used  to  consider  tl.ose  only  as  inspirrd 
persons,  who  are  called  by  God  to  som.e  extraordi- 
nary designs,  and  act  by  immediate  revelation  from 


18S  A    PRACTICAP.    TREATISE 

him.  Now  as  inspiration  implies  an  hnmedlait  rt- 
"cdaUon  from  God,  in  this  sense  there  have  been 
but  few  inspired  persons  ;  but  inspiration,  as  it  signi- 
fies an  invisible  operation^  or  assistchict  and  instruc- 
tion of  God's  Holy  Spirit,  is  the  common  gift  and 
privilege  of  all  Christians  ;  in  this  sense  of  inspira- 
tion they  are  all  inspired  persons,  Knoivyenot^  saith 
St.  Paul^  that  yoiir  body  is  the  temple  of  the  Holy 
Ghost^  which  is  in  you  ?  St.  John  likewise,  Hereby 
know  loe  that  he  diceUeth  in  us^  by  the  Spirit  zi'hich 
he  hath  given  us  :  for  as  many  as  are  led  by  the  Spirit 
of  God,  are  the  sons  of  God*     Again,  N020  if  any  man 

hath  7iot  the  Spirit  of  Christ  he  is  none     j^  ••  ^  ^ 

n-        r  .1,  1  vl.  Kom.vH.ll. 

of  his,     r  rom  these,  and  many  other 

passages  of  the  like  nature,  it  is  undeniably  plain^ 

that  the   life  which  we  now  live,  is  a   life   in  and 

by  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  that  they  are  only  sons 

of  God,  who  are   led  by   this   Spirit.     JNow   this 

Doctrine  plainly  proves  the  necessity  of  a  constant 

seif-denial  ;  for  it  must  be  necessary  that  we  deny 

ourselves  all  those  tempers  and  -ways  of  life,  which 

may  make   God  w^ithhokl  his  grace  from  us  ;  and 

likewise  all  those  enjoyments  and  indulgences  which 

may  make  us  less  able  and  less  disposed  lo  improve 

and  co-operate  with  those  degrees  of  divine  grace^ 

that  are  communicated  to  us. 

Our  blessed  Saviour  saith,  If  any  man  love  me,  he 
7oill  keep  my  worr?.9,  and  my  Father  j  i,  ■  03 
7uill  love  him,  and  7ve  rcill  come  unto 
him^  and  make  cur  abode  ivilh  him.  This  teaches  us 
how  we  are  to  invite  the  good  Spirit  of  Cod  to  dwell 
in  us:  we  arc  to  prepare  ourselves  for  the  abode  of 
this  divine  Guest,  by  loving  C^hrist,  and  keeping  his 
commandments  :  whence  we  vho  lenrn,  that  the 
Spirit  of  God  does  not  eqiially  visit  all  persons  in  all 
ways  of  life,  but  that  we  must  prepare  ourselves  for 
his  prcsen-cc. 

We  are  also  told,  that  God  resisteth  the  proud,  hU 
giveth  gfact  %i7\to  th€  humble.    This  ako  explain* 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    P£RFECTI0\.  13'J 

ta  US  the  method  of  divine  grace,  that  it  is  bestowed 
to  the  state  aud  temper  of  })crsons  ;  that  there  are 
some  dispositions  which  scparale  us  from  the  Spirit 
©f  God,  and  others  that  procure  to  us  a  larger  share 
of  its  gifts  and  graces.  VVc  are  also  here  taught  to- 
consider  j:>r/(:?r,  not  onlj^  as  a  sin  that  has  its  parti- 
cular guilt,  but  it  has  this  certain  ellVct,  that  it  <\t- 
^/Vigu<6A^s- the  divine  W^Vi^deprhes  us  of  God's  Spirit 
and  leaves  us  to  sink  under  the  corruption  and 
weight  of  our  nature* 

We  are  to  consider  humUlfy  also,  not  only  as  it  is 
a  reasonable  duty,  and  proper  to  our  state ;  but  as  it 
quaUJies  ^nd  prepares  us  for  larger  degrees  of  divine 
grace,  such  as  may  purify  and  perfect  our  souls  in  all 
manner  of  holiness.  All  instances  therefore  of  pride 
are  to  be  avoided,  all  sorts  of  humility  to  be  prac- 
tised, not  only  for  their  own  sakcs,  but  as  necessary 
preparations  for  divine  grace,  that  we  may  be  fit 
temples  for  the  Holy  Ghost  to  dwell  in.  Now  see- 
ing we  are  none  of  Christ's,  if  the  Spirit  of  Christ 
be  not  in  us,  sccis^'  v/c  i:r?  ctjIv  ^"^  far  Christians,  as 
we  are  renewed  by  the  Holy  Ghost  ;  nothing  can 
be  more  necessary  to  true  piety,  than  that  we  form 
every  part  of  our  lives  with  regard  to  this  Holy 
Spirit.  That  we  consider  all  our  tempers^  pleasures^ 
cares^  desic^ns^  and  n^ays  of  life,  whether  they  be 
such  as  suit  with  the  wisdom  and  heavenly  guidance 
of  the  Holy  Spirit.  This  doctrine  shows  us  to  our- 
selves in  a  new  point  of  view,  and  may  serve  to  teach 
us  several  truths,  which  we  should  otherwise  not  so 
readily  apprehend. 

^Vhen  we  are  left  to  consider  our  duty  with  rela- 
tion  to  the  express  commandments  of  God,  there 
are  many  ways  of  life,  which  we  think  ourselves  at 
liberty  to  fo'Jow,  becaus*^  ^^^^J  ^f'cin  to  be  no  plain 
breach  of  any  commandment.  But  we  are  to  look 
to  a  farther  rule,  and  to  consider  our  pleasure  sand 
cares,  our  designs  and  endeavours,  not  culy  wliether 
they  are  according  to  the  letter  of  the-  .lav,-,  but 


190  A  PRACTieAL  TREATISE- 

whether  they  are  according  to  the  Spirit  of  God  ; 
for  if  they  are  contrary  to  the  Spirit  of  God,  if  they 
suit  not  with  his  secret  inspirations,  they  are  as  truly 
to  be  avoided,  as  if  they  were  contrary  to  some  ex- 
press commandment.  For  we  are  assured  from 
Scripture,  that  they  only  are  the  sons  of  God,  7cho 
are  led  hy  the  Spirit  of  God  ;  and  none  can  be  said 
to  be  led  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  but  they  whose  lives 
■are  according  to  it,  whose  actions,  cares,  and  plea- 
sures, hopes  and  fears,  are  such  as  may  be  said  to 
be  guided  by  the  motions  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

We  are  therefore  to  consider  ourselves  as  inspired 
persons,  that  have  no  knoAvledge  or  wisdom,  but 
what  comes  from  God,  and  that  this  wisdom  will  no 
longer  dwell  with  us,  than  so  long  as  Ave  act  and 
conduct  ourselves  conformably  to  it.  So  that  we 
must  not  vainly  deceive  ourselves  in  saying,  where 
is  the  harm  of  such  indulgences,  or  such  vanities 
and  idle  amusements  ?  But  must  consider,  whether 
they  are  such  as  are  conformable  to  a  life  that  is  to 
be  tlirecied  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  whether  they  will 
invite  his  assistance,  and  make  him  delight  to  dwell 
with  us.  In  this  manner  must  we  examine  and  try 
all  our  ways  of  life,  as  well  our  cares  as  our  plea- 
sures, and  all  our  tempers  and  inclinations.  For 
unreasonable  cares,  as  well  as  unreasonable  plea- 
sures, are  equally  contrary  to  the  wisdom  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  and  equally  separate  us  from  him. 
People  often  think  their  designs  and  diversions  in- 
nocent, because  they  are  not  sinful  in  their  nature, 
but  they  should  also  consider  whether  they  are  not 
vain  and  foolish,  and  unsuitable  to  the  state  and 
condition  of  a  Christian.  For  a  life  of  folly,  and 
vanity,  and  trifling  designs,  is  no  more  living  hy  the 
Spirit  of  God,  than  a  life  of  gross  sins  is  keeping 
the  commandments.  So  that  the  safest  rules  to 
judge  of  our  actions  by,  is  to  consider  them  with 
relation  to  that  Spirit,  by  which  we  are  to  be  guided. 
Is  this  design^  or  thi^   diversion,  according  to  the 


UPON    CilRlSTIA.N"    PERFECTION.  tDl 

wisdom  of  the  Spirit  of  God  ?  Am  I  in  these  things 
improving  the  secret  inspiration  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  ?  Am  1  here  governed  by  a  wisdom  from 
above?  Are  these  ways  such  that  I  can  trniy  sa}", 
that  1  am  led  into  them  by  the  Spirit  of  God  ?  Do 
1  allow  mj^self  in  them,  because  they  serve  to  set 
forth  the  glory  of  God,  and  are  agreeable  to  the 
condition  of  a  disciple  of  Christ  ?  Are  thoy  good 
proofs  that  the  Spirit  of  God  dwclleth  in  me,  and 
that  by  thus  sowing  to  the  Spirit,  1  shall  of  the 
Spirit  reap  everlasting  life  ?  This  is  the  rule  of 
perfection,  by  which  Christians  are  to  regulate  their 
thoughts,  words,  and  actions ;  for  we  are  called  by 
God  to  a  state  of  purity  and  holiness,  to  act  by  the 
motions  of  his  Holy  Spirit,  and  make  no  other  use 
of  ourselves,  or  the  world  we  are  in,  than  such  as  is 
conformable  to  that  dignity  of  life,  and  state  of  glory 
to  which  w^e  are  called.  The  spirit  of  our  religion 
is  to  be  the  spirit  of  our  lives,  the  constant  principle 
of  all  our  tempers  and  inclinations,  which  is  to 
render  us  reasonable,  and  wise,  and  holy,  in  all  our 
progress  through  the  world. 

The  rmewai  of  our  hearts  by  the  Spirit  of  God 
consists  in  upav  thoughts^  and  ne7o  desires^  in  filling 
our  minds  with  great  and  sublime  truths,  and  in 
giving  us  desires  and  inclinations,  hopes  and  fears, 
cares  and  pleasures  suitable  to  them. 

This  is  being  born  of  the  Spirit :  hence  appears  a 
plain  reason  of  an  universal  stlf-denkd^  because  the 
spirit  of  the  world,  and  the  spirit  of  our  corrupt 
hearts,  is  in  a  state  of  contrariety  to  this  Spirit  and 
wisdom  which  is  from  a})ove.  So  that  it  is  to  be 
the  main  business  and  labour  of  our  lives,  to  con- 
tradict those  motions  of  our  hearts,  and  ttiose  tem- 
pers of  the  world,  vvhich  are  contrary  to  this  Spirit, 
which  is  to  be  the  principle  of  our  new  life  in 
Christ. 

We  must  therefo''e  deny  ourselves  all  those  ways 
of  life,  all  cares  and  enjoyments  which  too  much 


192  A   PRACTICAL    treatise: 

possess  our  minds,  and  render  them  insensible  of 
these  great  truths.  We  must  practise  ail  that  f-clf- 
dcnial,)  tcriiperance^  ahitincncc.,  care,  and  wttkh ful- 
ness, which  can  any  ^v^y  fit  and  prepare  our  minds 
to  hear  and  receive,  to  comprehend  and  relish  the 
instructions  and  doctrine  which  come  from  the  Spirit 
of  God.  For  ail  these  truths,  every  thing  that  re- 
lates to  God  and  religion,  have  a  different  effect 
upon  us,  according  to  the  state  or  way  of  life  that 
we  are  in  :  as  land  must  be  prepared  to  receive  the 
best  seed,  as  rocks  can  bring  forth  no  fruit  ;  so  un- 
less our  minds  are  in  some  proper  state  and  dispo- 
siiion  to  co-operate  vAih  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  receive 
liis  instructions,  his  gifts  and  graces  will  bring 
forth  no  fruit. 

^Tis  acknowledged  by  all,  that  a  life  of  inlempt^ 
ranee  and  debauchery  makes  us  dead  and  senseless 
of  religion,  and  incapable  of  receiving  its  truths  t 
but  then  it  is  not  enough  considered,  that  the  vamty 
of  the  mind,  an  understanding  busied  in  trifles,  an 
inipertinent  course  of  life,  will  as  certainly  produce 
the  same  effect.  If  our  understanding  is  full  of 
foolish  imaginations,  devoted  to  trifles,  religion  can 
gain  no  entrance.  A  man  may  be  so  earnest  in 
picking  straws,  as  to  have  no  leisure  to  thiuk  of  his 
"salvation,  nor  any  more  inclination  to  it,  than  one 
that  is  constantly  in  drink.  Children  are  incapable 
of  religion,  not  because  they  "»re  intemperate  and 
dchaudied,  but  l^ecause  they  have  litJJe  minds,  that 
arc  taken  up  and  employed  with  little  and  trifling 
entertainments.  Now  if,  when  we  are  men,  v.e 
have  the  minds  of  children,  and  have  only  changed 
our  p/c/^y-//rm'\?,  we  shall  embrace  and  ]^rnctise  re- 
ligion, just  to  as  much  pui'pose  as  children  do  :  for 
a  mind  talvjen  up  with  geivgarrs,  and  trifles,  and 
impertinent  S'^isfiictions,  is  in  the  snme  state, 
whether  it  hofnir,  or  whetlier  it  be  fifty  years  old. 
If  it  be  made  silly  with  trifiing  concerns,  v.nd  false 
.satisfactions,  it  is  in  a  state  of  as  much  disorder,  and 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    P£RFECTION.  l03 

nT5   contrary  to  religion,  as  a  state  of  giuiioitij-  and 
intemperance. 

Thus  poor  amusemenfs^  vain  arts^  useless  sciences^ 
impertinent  /earui/??,  false  satisfactions^  a  wrong 
turn  of  mi  ml  ^  a  state  of  idleness^  or  any  the  vainest: 
iriflcs  of  life,  may  keep  men  at  as  great  a  distance 
from  the  true  impressions  of  religion,  and  from  liv- 
ing by  the  Spirit  of  God,  as  the  ignorance  of  child- 
hood or  the  dcbaucJicries  of  intemperance. 

Titus  is  temperate  and  regular  ;  but  then  he  is  so 
.'^reat  a  mathematicia,i^  that  he  does  not  know  when 
Sunday  comes  :  he  s«cs  people  going  to  church ;  as 
he  sees  others  going  to  m.arket ;  he  goes  on  study- 
ing, measuring,  and  calculating,  and  may  as  well  be 
■called  a  merchant  as  a  Christian, 

All  doctrines  of  religion  are  disagreeable  (o  PJiih 
he  avoids  them  as  he  avoids y9«r/y  ;  now  what  is  the 
reason  of  it  2  It  is  not  because  he  is  debauched  and 
intemperate^  but  he  is  a  virtuoso,  devoted  to  polite 
literature  ;  his  soul  is  extended  to  all  the  curiosities 
in  the  world,  and  thinks  all  time  to  ])e  lost,  that  is 
liot  spent  in  the  search  of  shells,  uryis,  inscriptions, 
and  broken  pieces  of  pavements*  This  makes  the 
truths  o^  religion,  and  the  concerns  o(  eternity,  seem 
small  things  in  his  eyes,  fit  only  for  the  inquiry  of 
narroio,  Utile,  and  lu^mlite  souls. 

Patronus  is  fond  of  a  clergyman  that  understands 
music,  painting,  statuary  and  architecture.  He  is  an 
enemy  to  the  dissenters,  and  loves  the  church  of 
England,  because  of  the  stateliness  and  beauty  of  it* 
buildings  ;  he  never  comes  to  the  sacrament,  but 
will  go  forty  miles  to  see  a//ie  altar-piece.  He  goes 
to  church  when  there  is  a  ncic  tune  to  be  heard,  buf. 
never  had  any  more  serious  thoughts  about  salva- 
tion.  than  a\)0\it  flying.  If  you  visit  him  when  he  is 
dying,  you  will  hear  his  dying  thoughts  upon  archi* 
tccturc, 

Euschius  would  read  prayers  trcicc  every  day  in 
iiis  parish  ;  he  would  be  often  with  the  poor  and 

17 


194  A    r-RACTICAL   TREATISE 

sick,  and  spend  much  time  in  charitable  \'isits,  he 
would  be  wholly  taken  up  in  the  cure  of  souls,  but 
that  he  is  busy  in  studying  the  old  grammarians, 
and  would  fain  reconcile  some  differences  amongst 
them  before  he  dies. 

Lycki  has  no  wicked  or  irreligious  temper,  and 
she  might  be  pious,  but  that  she  is  too  easy^  gay^ 
and  cheerful,  to  admit  of  care  of  any  kind.  She  can 
no  more  repent,  than  she  can  be  out  of  temper,  and 
must  be  the  same  sparkling^  cheerful  creature  in  tlie 
churchy  as  in  the  play-house.  She  might  be  capable 
of  understanding  the  misery  of  human  natm-e,  and 
the  necessity  of  the  comforts  of  religion  :  but  that 
the  is  so  happy  every  time  she  is  dressed, 

Matrona  is  old,  and  has  been  this  fifty  years 
eating  and  drinking,  sleeping  and  waking,  dressing 
and  undressing,  paying  and  receiviiig  visits.  She 
has  no  profaneness  ;  and,  if  she  has  no  piety,  it  is 
owing  to  this,  that  she  never  had  a  spare  half-hour 
in  all  her  life  to  think  about  it.  She  envies  her 
daus^htcrs  because  thev  will  dress  and  visit  when 
she  is  dead. 

Publins  goes  to  church  sometimes,  and  reads  the 
Scripture  ;  but  he  knows  not  what  he  reads  or 
prays,  his  head  is  so  full  of  politics  ^  He  is  so  angry 
at  kinors  and  ministers  of  state^  that  he  has  no  time 
nor  disposition  to  call  himself  to  account.  He  has 
the  history  of  sW  parliamcnts^f  cleciioiis^  prosecutions^ 
and  impeachments^  and  dies  with  little  or  no  religion, 
through  a  constant  fear  of  popery. 

Siccus  has  neither  virtues  nor  vices  ;  he  has  been 
all  his  life  long,  building  and  pulling  dozvn^  making 
canals  and  ditches,  raising  nudh  mid  fences.  People 
call  him  a  good  man,  because  ho  employs  the  poor ; 
Siccus  might  have  been  a  religious  man,  but  that  he 
thought  building  was  the  chief  happiness  of  a  ra- 
tional creature.  He  is  all  the  week  amongst  dirt 
and  mortar,  and  stays  at  home  on  Sundays  to  view 
his  contrivances*     He  will  die  more  contentedly,  if 


tjpoa   CHRISTIAN    PERFECTIO:?*  195 

his  death  does  not  happen  whilst  some  ii-all  is  in 
building. 

Silvius  laughs  at  preaching,  and  prayings  not  be- 
cause he  has  any  profane  principles,  or  any  argu- 
ments against  religion  ;  but  l)ccause  he  ha]))icns  to 
have  been  used  to  nothing  but  iioisc,  and  luciitingy 
and  sports* 

I  have  n^entioned  these  several  characters^  to 
show  us,  that  it  is  not  only  profaneness^  dchaiichcrj/, 
and  open  vices,  that  keep  men  from  the  impression-;  ' 
of  true  religion  ;  but  that  the  mere  plajj-tLings  of 
life,  impertinent  studies,  vain  amusements,  false  satis- 
factions, idle  dispositions,  "will  produce  the  same 
effect.  A  wrong  turn  of  mind,  impertinent  cares,  a 
succession  of  the  poorest  trijles,  if  they  take  up  our 
thoughts,  leave  no  more  room  for  the  cares  and 
fears  of  true  piety,  than  gross  sensuality. 

Our  blessed  Saviour  saith,  Wo  unto  you,  pilaris  ee  s  ^ 
for  ye  love  the  uppermost  seats  in  syna-      t    i        '   a<^ 
gogues,  and  greetings  in   the  viarkcts. 
The  wisdom  of  this  world  would  tind  little  to  con- 
demn in  such  a  behaviour  as  this  ;  but  yet  ue  see 
that  the  wisdom  of  God  condemns  it  with  a  7coe, 
teaching  us,  that  every  zurong  turn  of  mind,  every 
false  satisfaction,  puts  the  soul  in  a  state  that  is 
contrary  to  religion,  and  makes  men  unfit  to  receive     f^ 
its  doctrines.     This  is  the  reason  w^hy  religion  calls  |.,- ' 
us  to  a  state  of  self-denial,  humility,  and   mortiftca- ' 
tion,  because  it  is  a  state  that  awakens  the  soul  into 
right  apprehensions  of  things,  and   qualities  us  to 
see,  and  hear,  and  understand  the  doctrines  of  ctcr« 
nal  truth.     We  must  deny  ourselves  all  our  ways, 
of  folly  and  vanity,  let  go  every  false  satisfaction, 
that  the  soul  may  be  at  liberty  with  its  full  atteiv 
tion,  to  listen  to  the  instructions  of  religion. 

Would  we  see  any  thing  exactly,  we  must  take 
our  eyes  from  every  thing  else  ;  so  if  we  would 
apprehend  truly  the  things  of  religion,  we  must 
take  our  mind^   from   all  other  objects,  wc  must 


196  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE- 

empty  ourselves  of  all  false  satisfactions,  or  wc 
shall  never  know  the  want,  or  feel  the  excellency 
of  our  true  good. 

We  see  even  in  worldly  matters,  that  if  we  pro- 
pose any  thino;  to  a  man  when  he  is  in  the  pursuit 
of  something  else,  he  hardly  hears  or  understands 
us  ;  we  must  stay  for  a  season  of  more  leisure  and 
indiflerence,  till  his  thoughts  and  passions  are  at 
rest. 

Now  this  holds  much  stronger  in  ihattcrs  of  reli- 
gion ;  its  doctrines  are  neither  heard  nor  understood, 
i-'ccau^-e  it  ahvays  lines  us  in  the  pursuit  of  soiucfhing 
e's^  ;  it  mutters  liOt  what  this  scmcthing  else  is, 
nvhether  it  be  loving  uppermost  seats  in  the  syna- 
,^ofriies,  a  fondness  for  frifes,  a  joy  in  luxury  and 
kilcjiess,  or  a  labour  after  riches  ;  the  mind  is  equally 
employed  wrong,  and  so  not  in  a  condition  to  like, 
or  at  leisure  to  listen  to  any  other  happiness.  If 
you  were  to  propose  the  same  truths  to  a  man  in 
another  state,  when  weariness  or  disappointment 
has  made  him  give  up  all  designs,  or  when  sickness, 
or  the  approach  of  death  shows  him  that  he  must 
act  no  longer  in  them,  they  would  have  quite  ano- 
ther effect  upon  him  ;  then  the  great  things  of  reli- 
gion appear  great  indeed  :  he  feels  their  whole 
weight,  and  is  amazed  that  he  did  not  see  them 
always  in  the  same  monner.  Now  it  is  the  great 
end  and  design  of  sc[f-(hninl^  to  put  a  stop  to  the 
follies  of  life,  and  mortify  all  onr  passions,  that  our 
souls  may  quietly  consider,  and  fully  comprehend 
the  truths  which  come  from  God  :  that  our  hearts 
being  at  liberty  from  a  croud  of  foolish  thoughts, 
may  be  ready' to  obey  and  co-operate  with  the  m- 
spi'raiions  of  that  Spirit,  which  is  to  lead  and  quicken 
us  in  holiness  ;  that  death  and  judgment,  heavcji  and 
/fc//, may  make  as  deep  impressions  upon  our  minds 
in  the  middle  of  our  lives,  as  at  our  last  hour  ;  that 
we  may  be  as  wise  and  prudent  as  sick  and  dying 
men,   and  live  with  such   apprehensions  a^^   mosi 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PtRFECTlON.  197 

people  die  with,  that  we  may  see  the  vanity  of  the 
world,  the  misery  of  sin,  the  greatness  of  eternity, 
and  the  want  of  God,  as  they  see  it,  who  stand 
upon  the  brink  of  another  world. 

This  is  the  great  and  happy  work  of  self-denial^ 
which  is  to  fill  us  with  a  spirit  of  wisdom,  to  awaken 
us  into  a  true  knowledge  of  ourselves,  and  show  us 
who,  and  where,  and  what  we  are.  Till  this  self- 
denial  has  put  a  stop  to  our  follies,  and  opened  our 
eyes,  our  life  js  but  a  sleep,  a  dream,  a  mere  succes- 
sion of  shadows  ;  and  we  act  with  as  little  reason 
and  judgment,  as  a  child  that  is  pleased  with  blow- 
ing about  a  feather.  We  must  therefore  not  only 
deny  our  wicked  and  sinful  inclinations,  but  also  all 
our  follies,  impertinences,  and  vain  satisfactions  ; 
for  as  plain  and  known  sins  harden  and  corrupt,  so 
impertinencies  and  false  satisfactions  delude  and 
blind  our  hearts,  and  render  them  insensible  of  our 
real  misery,  or  true  happiness. 

We  are  true  nw^mbers  of  the  kingdom  of  God, 
when  the  kingdom  of  God  is  within  us,  when  the 
Spirit  of  religion  is  the  spirit  of  our  lives  ;  when 
seated  in  our  hearts,  it  diffuses  itself  into  all  our 
motions :  when  we  are  wise  hy  its  wisdom,  sober  by 
its  sobriety,  and  humble  by  its  humility  ;  when  it  is 
the  principle  of  all  our  thoughts  and  desires,  the 
spring  of  all  our  hopes  and  fears  ;  when  we  like 
and  dislike,  seek  and  avoid,  mourn  and  rejoice,  as 
becomes  those  who  are  born  again  of  God.  Now 
this  is  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  our  hearts,  to 
give  us  a  new  understanding,  a  new  judgment,  tem- 
per, taste,  and  relish,  new  desires,  and  new  hopes 
and  fears.  So  far,  therefore,  as  we  prepare  ourselves 
by  self-denial  for  this  change  of  heart  and  mind,  so 
far  we  invite  the  assistance,  and  concur  with  the  in- 
spirations of  the  Holy  Spirit.  And  so  far  as  we 
nourish  any  foolish  passion,  indulge  any  vanity  of 
mind,  or  corruption  of  heart ;  so  far  we  resist  the 
graces  of  God's  Holy  Spirit,  and  render  ourselves 

17* 


i98  A     TRACTItAL    TREATiSE 

indisposed  lo  relish  and  improve  his  sccrcl  insplra- 
iions.  Christians  arc  therefore  to  consider  them- 
selves, not  only  as  men  that  are  to  act  by  a  princi- 
ple of  reason,  but  as  sj)iritual  beings,  who  have  a 
liigher  principle  of  life  within  them,  and  are  to  live 
by  the  wisdom  and  instructions  of  the  Spirit  of  God, 

As  reasonable  men  would  do  every  thing  that 
tended  to  strengthen  and  improve  their  reason  ;  so 
w  ise  Chri.'^tians  ought  to  practise  e^'ery  way  of  life, 
that  can  fit  them  for  farther  degrees /)f  grace,  that 
can  strengthen  and  preserve  their  union  with  the 
Spirit  of  God.  For  as  a  man  without  reason,  has 
but  the  figure  of  a  man  ;  so  a  Christian  without  the 
Spirit  of  God,  has  but  the  form  of  a  Christian.  And 
as  the  perfection  of  a  man  consists  in  the  highest 
improvement  of  his  reason  ;  so  the  perfection  of  a 
Christian  consists  in  his  growth  in  grace,  in  the 
spiritual  turn  and  temper  of  his  heart  and  mind. 
IJere  therefore  must  we  fix  all  our  care  and  con- 
cern, that  we  may  remove  all  hinderances  of  divine 
grace,  and  preserve  this  kingdom  of  God  within  us  ; 
I  hat  we  may  be  truly  spiritual  in  all  our  ways  and 
designs,  and  indulge  no  tempers  that  may  lessen 
our  union  with  the  Spirit  of  God. 

Some  persons  will  perhaps  refrain  from  griefs 
when  they  find  that  it  hurts  their  eyes  ;  they  will 
uvoid  passion  and  anger,  if  it  ends  in  pains  of  the 
head  ;but  they  would  do  well  to  consider  that  these 
tempers  are  to  be  abstained  from  upon  much  greater 
accounts.  Passion  may  disorder  our  bodies,  waste 
our  spirits,  and  leave  pains  in  our  heads  ;  but  it 
leaves  greater  marks  of  injury  in  our  better  part,  as 
it  throws  us  into  a  state  of  madness,  and  banishes 
the  Holy  Spirit  of  peace  and  gentleness,  zind  prepares 
us  for  the  suggestions  of  the  spirit  of  darkness. 
Grief  maj  hurt  our  eyes^  but  it  much  more  hurts 
our  souls^  as  it  sinks  them  into  a  state  of  gloom  and 
darkness,  which  expels  and  quenches  the  Spirit  of 
God  ;  for  light  may  as  well  unite  with  darkness,  as 


LPO-^    CHP.ISTIAN    PERFEillloN.  199 

the  Spirit  of  Cod  dwell  with  the  gloomy  duhiess 
and  horror  of  stupid  grief.  What  1  liave  observed 
of  these  two  passions,  ought  to  be  concluded  of 
every  other  pasi^ioji  and  tonpei-  ;  we  are  to  consider 
it  as  it  suits  with,  or  resists  that  new  Spirit,  by 
whose  holy  motions  w^e  arc  to  be  preserved  in  a 
state  of  hoihiess. 

Now  seeing  this  change  of  our  hearts,  and  new- 
ness of  spirit,  is  the  whole  of  religion  ;  we  must 
fear  and  avoid,  all  irregularity  of  spirit,  every  unrea- 
sonable temper,  because  it  affects  us  in  the  seat  of 
life,  because  it  hurts  us  in  our  principal  part,  and 
makes  us  less  capable  of  the  graces,  and  less  obe- 
dient to  the  motions  of  God's  Holy  Spirit.  We 
must  labour  after  a  stijte  of  peace,  satisfaction,  and 
thankfulness,  free  from  the  folly  of  vain  hopes,  idle 
fears,  and  false  anxieties,  that  our  souls  may  be  dis- 
posed to  feel  the  joys,  to  rejoice  in  the  comforts, 
and  advance  in  the  graces  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

AVith  what  care  and  exactness  we  are  to  conduct 
ourselves,  with  regard  to  the  Spirit  of  God,  is  fully 
set  forth  in  the    following  words ;  Let   no  corrupt 
communication  proceed  out  of  your  moKfli^  hut  that 
7ohich  is  good  to  the  use  of  edify inp;^  that  it  may  inin- 
istcr  grace  unto  the  hearers  ;  and  grieve  not  iiie  Holy 
Spirit  of  God^  whereby  ye  are  sealed     pi      •        oq 
unto  the  day  of  redemption.     That        *  '' 
we  may  not    here   mistake    what    is    meant    by 
corrupt  communications,  that  we  may  not  fancy  it 
only  implies  sinful  and  wicked  discourse,  the  apostle 
adds — but  that  zujiich  is  good  to   the  use  of  edifying^ 
that  it  may  minister  grace  unto  the  hearers.     So  that 
it  is  a  conversation  that  docs  not  edify   and  profit 
the  hearer,  the  apostle  condemns  as  corrupt,   and 
such  as  is  to  be  avoided.     Let  it  be  observed,  that 
the  apostle  does  not  prohibit  this  kind  of  conver- 
sation, because  it  is  useless,  impertinent,  and  bet- 
ter to  be  avoided  -;  but  for  a  reason  of  the  utmost 
consequence,  that  we  may  not  grieve  the  Holy  Spirii 


-iOO  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

of  God*  This  shows  us,  that  we  Christians  are  (o 
govern  ourselves  by  no  less  a  rule  than  a  conformilxj 
10  the  Spirit  of  God  ;  that  we  arc  not  only  to  deny 
ourselves  vain  and  foolish  actions,  but  also  idle  and 
unedifying  discourse,  and  conduct  ourselves  in  all 
our  behaviour  with  such  a  spirit  of  wisdom  and 
purity,  as  may  make  the  Holy  Ghost  delight  to 
dwell  in  us.  This  rule  of  perfection  is  highly  con- 
formable to  the  nature  of  our  religion.  For  as  our 
religion  consists  in  a  new  heart  and  ticzu  spirit  ;  it  is 
certain  that  we  are  then  only  arrived  to  the  true 
state  of  our  religion,  when  it  governs  our  words  and 
actions,  and  is  the  constant  temper  of  our  minds  at 
all  times,  and  on  all  occasions.  A  covetous  man  is 
not  only  covetous,  when  he  is  in  his  counting-roomy 
he  is  the  same  person,  and  governed  by  the  same 
temper  and  way  of  thinking  wherever  he  is.  And 
the  same  thing  is  equally  true  of  every  way  of  life^ 
when  it  has  once  entered  into  our  heart,  and  become 
a  settled  temper  ;  it  is  not  occasionally  exercised  in 
this  or  that  place,  or  at  set  times  ;  but  is  always  in 
being,  and  constantly  disposing  us  to  thoughts,  and 
words,  &nd  actions  suitable  to  it. 

Some  persons  seem  to  know  so  little  of  religion^ 
that  they  confine  it  to  acts  of  devotion,  and  public 
occasions  of  divine  service  5  they  do  not  consider 
that  it  consists  in  a  new  heart  and  new  spirit,  and 
that  acts  of  devotion,  prayer  and  preaching,  watch- 
ings,  fastinfjs,  and  sacraments,  are  only  to  fill  us 
with  this  new  heart  and  spirit,  and  make  it  the 
common  constant  spirit  of  our  lives  every  day  and 
in  every  place. 

A  man  may  be  said  to  have  some  regard  for  reli- 
gion, who  is  regular  at  places  of  divine  w^orship  ; 
but  he  cannot  be  reckoned  of  a  religious  spirit,  till 
it  is  his  spirit  in  every  place,»and  on  every  occa? 
sion  ;  till  he  lives  and  breathes  by  it,  andf  thinks, 
and  speaks,  and  acts  according  to  its  motions. 

A  man  may  frec^uent  meetings  for  mirth  ;    but 


»  CPON    CHRISTIAN    TDRFECTION.  201 

yet,  if  when  he  is  out  of  them,  he  gives  himself  unto 
peevishness,  chagrin  and  duhiess.  I  presume  no  one 
wifl  saj  that  such  a  man  is  of  a  cheerful  spirit.  It 
is  easy  to  make  the  application  here,  if  we  are  only 
attendants  ^i places  of  religion  ;  if  Avhen  we  are  out 
of  those  places,  wc  are  of  another  spirit,  1  do  not 
say  proud  or  covetous,  but  vain  and  foolish  ;  if  oar 
actions  arc  silly,  and  conversation  trifling  and  im- 
pertinent, our  tempers  vain  and  worldly,  wc  are  no 
more  of  a  religious  spirit^  than  a  dull  and  peevish 
man  is  of  a  cheerful  spirit,  br^cauj>c  he  is  regular  at 
5omc  set  meetings  for  mirth. 

If  a  person  of  pride  and  vanity  in  the  general 
course 'of  his  life,  should  yet  think  himscU  hnmhle, 
because  he  had  lus  appointed  times  of  praying  for 
humility,  we  might  justly  say  of  him,  that  he  knew 
nothing  of  the  nature  of  that  virtue  :  in  like  manner, 
if  one,  whose  conversation^  w-hose  discourse,  and 
carriage,  and  temper  in  common  Hfe^tivc  not  accord- 
ing to  the  spirit  of  religion,  should  yet  think  himself 
religious,  because  he  had  his  appointed  places  of 
prayer,  it  might  justly  be  said  of  him,  that  he  was  a 
-stranger  to  the  nature  of  true  religion.  For  religion 
is  not  ours  till  we  live  by  it ;  till  it  is  the'  rehgion  of 
our  thou2;hts,  words,  and  actions  ;  till  it  goes  with  us 
into  every  place  ;  sits  uppermost  on  every  occasion  ; 
and  forms  and  governs  our  hopes  and  fears,  our 
cares  and  pleasures.  lie  is  the  religious  man  who 
watches  and  guards  his  spirit,  and  endeavours  to  be 
always  in  the  temper  of  religion  ;  who  worships 
God  in  every  place  by  a  purity  of  behaviour  ;  who 
13  as  fearful  of  foolish  thoughts,  irregular  tempers, 
and  vain  imaginations,  at  one  tim.e  as  at  another  ; 
who  is  as  wi=e  and  heavenly  at  home,  or  in  the 
field,  as  in  the  LouS''^  of  God.  For  when  once  reli- 
gion hns  irot  possr;-sion  of  a  man's  heart,  and  is  be- 
come, as  it  ought  to  br,  his  ruling  temj)er  ;  it  is  as 
agreeable  to  such  a  one  in  all  places,  and  at  all 
times,' to  speak  and  act  according  to  i's  dircctioriSf 


302  A  PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

as  it  is  aojrceable  to  the  ambitious  man  to  act  ac^ 
cording  to  the  motions  of  ambition.  We  must  there- 
fore take  it  for  granted,  that  if  we  are  not  religious 
in  our  conversation  and  common  temper,  we  are  not 
religious  in  our  hearts  ;  wc  may  have  a  formality 
of  religion  af  certain  times  and  places^  but  wc  are 
not  of  a  relioious  spirii. 

We  sec  every  body  speaking  and  conversing  ac- 
cording to  their  spirit  and  temper  ;  the  covetous, 
the  ambitious,  the  vain  and  self-conceited,  have 
each  of  them  their  proper  language  suitable  to  their 
spirit  and  temper,  they  are  the  same  persons  in  all 
places,  and  always  talk  like  themselves.  If  there* 
fore  we  could  meet  with  persons  of  a  truly  religious 
spirit  and  temper,  we  should  find  them  like  men 
of  other  tempers,  the  same  persons  in  all  places^, 
and  always  talking  and  acting  like  themselves. 
We  should  find  them  living  by  one  temper,  and 
conversing  with  men  with  the  same  spirit  that  they 
converse  with  God ;  not  one  thing  in  one  place,  and 
another  in  another,  not  formal  and  grave  at  a  fune- 
ral^ and  mad  and  frantic  at  di  feast ;  not  listening  to 
wisdom  at  churchy  and  delighting  in  folly  at  home  ; 
not  angry  at  one  foolish  thing,  and  as  much  pleased 
with  another ;  but  steady  and  uniform  in  the  same 
wise  and  religious  temper. 

Farther,  as  we  are  not  of  a  religious  spirit^  till  it  is 
the  spirit  of  our  life,  and  orders  our  conversation  ;  so 
it  is  carefully  to  be  observed,  that  if  our  conversation 
is  vain  and  foolish,  it  keeps  us  in  a  state  incapable 
of  religion  by  grieving  the  Holy  Spirit.  For  as  we 
can  do  nothing  without  the  Spirit  of  God,  as  it  is 
our  breath,  our  life,  our  light,  and  oar  streyigth  ;  so  if 
we  live  in  such  a  way  as  grieves  and  removes  {his 
Holy  Spirit  from  us,  we  are  as  branches  that  are 
broke  off  from  the  tree,  and  must  perish  in  the 
deadness  and  corruption  of  our  nature.  Let  this 
therefore  teach  us  to  judge  rightly  of  the  sin  and 
danger  of  ram*    ^medifying^   and   corrvpt  commu* 


UPON   CHRISTIAN  PERFECTION.  -20S 

nicalion  ;  it  is  not  the  sin  of  idhncss  or  negVigcnce  ; 
it  is  not  the  sin  of  a  pardonable  wfirmlty  ;  it  is  not  a 
Irttle  mistake  in  spiritual  wisdom  ;  but  it  is  a  sin 
that  stands  between  us  and  the  tree  of  life  :  that  op- 
poses our  whole  happiness,  as  it  g^rievcs  and  separates 
the  Holy  Spirit  from  us.  Let  this  also  teach  some 
))eo})le  the  reason,  why  they  are  so  deacl  and  senseless 
of  religion,  and  hardly  capable  of  an  outward  formal 
compliance  with  it  ;  they  are  not  guihy  of  gross 
sins  ;  tliey  have  an  aversion  to  cheating  Siud  falseness ; 
but  at  the  same  time  have  no  more  feclini:^  or  relish 
of  religion,  than  mere  reprobates.  Now  the  reason 
of  it  is  this,  they  live  in  such  an  impertinence  of  con- 
versation ;  their  own  communication  is  so  constantly 
upon  silly  and  vain  subjects  ;  and  they  are  so  fond 
of  those  who  have  the  talent  of  conversing  iji  the 
same  manner,  that  they  render  themselves  unfit  for 
the  residence  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Their  whole  life 
is  almost  nothing  else  but  a  course  of  thdii  fillhin ess, 
foolish  talking,  and  jesting,  w^hich  the  apostle  for- 
bids. Now  this  kind  of  conversation  may  grieve 
the  Holy  Spirit,  for  these  two  reasons  :  first,  be- 
cause it  proceeds  from  too  disordered  a  soul,  for  the 
Holy  Spirit  to  delight  in  ;  for  such  as  our  conversa- 
tion is,  such  is  our  heart  ;  for  truth  itself  has  assur- 
ed us,  that  oui  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  the  mmith 
speakeih.  If  therefore  we  are  delighted  with  idle 
raillery^  foolish  jesting,  and  ridiculous  stories,  we 
must  not  think  that  we  are  only  foolish,  so  far  as  a 
little  talk  goes ;  but  we  must  charge  ourselves 
home,  and  be  assured  that  it  is  a  foolishness  of 
heart,  a  vanity  of  soul  that  we  labour  under. 

Secondly,  another  reason  why  this  conversatloa 
grieves  the  Holy  Spirit,  may  be  this,  because  it  is 
of  so  great  consequence,  and  has  so  great  an  inllu- 
encc  in  life.  We  do  not  seem  enough  to  apprehend 
either  how  much  good  or  how  much  evil  there  is  in 
conversation  ;  and  1  believe  it  may  be  affirmed,  that 
ihc  greatest  instructions,  and  the  greatest  corrup- 


204  A    PRACTICAL   TREATISE 

tions,  proceed  from  it.  If  some  people  wore  to  give 
us  their  true  history,  they  would  tell  us  that  they 
never  had  any  religion  since  they  had  such  acquain- 
tance; and  others  have  been  insensibly  led  into  a 
sincere  picfy'.  only  by  conversing  with  pious  people. 
For  men's  common  conversation  and  oj-dinary  life 
leach  much  rAore  effectually,  than  any  thing  they 
»sar  or  do,  at  set  times  and  occasions. 

When  a  clergyman  preaches,  he  is,  for  the  most 
part,  considered  as  doing  his  duty ;  as  acting  accord- 
ing to  his   profession  ;  and  doing   that  which    all 
clergymen  do,  whether  good  or  bad.    But  if  he  is  the 
same  wise  and  virtuous  man  in  his  communication, 
that  he  is  in  the  pulpit  ;  if  his  speech  be  seasoned 
7mth  salf^  that  it  may  minister  grace  unto  the  heaiw 
crs  ;  if  the  common  and  ordinary  actions  of  his  life 
])e  visibly  governed  by  a  spirit  of  piety  ;  such  a 
one  will  make  converts  to  holiness  ;  he  will  be  heard 
with  reverence  on  the  Simday ;  not  so  much  for  the 
weight  of  what  he  says,  as  for  what  he  says  and 
docs  all  the  week.     And  on  the  contrary,  if  a  cler- 
gyman^ when  he  comes  out  oi  ihe.  pulpit^  is  but  like 
other  men  ;  as  irregular  in  his  tempers  ;  as  trijling 
in  his  conversation  ;  as  efl^of^r  in  diversions  ;  as  ridi- 
culous  in  his  pleasures  ;  and  as  vain  in  his  designs  as 
other  people  ;  he  will   mightily  lessen    his   power 
over  the  hearts  of  his  hearers.     A  father  now  and 
then  gives  his  son  virtuous  advice,  and  the  son,  per- 
haps, would  be  much  the  better  for  it,  but  that  he 
never  hears  him  talking  virtuously,  but  when  he  i^ 
giving  him  advice  ;  this  makes  him  think,  that  he 
is  then  only  acting  the  part  o(  a  father^  as  when  he 
is  buying  him  clothes^  or  puttins;  him  out  to  an  em- 
ployment.    Whereas,  if  he  saw  his  father's  ordinary 
life  and  conversation  to  be  under  the  rules  of  reli- 
gion, and  his  every-day  temper  a  temper  of  piety, 
it  is  y-Qvy  likely  that  he  would  be  won  into  an  imi- 
tation of  it. 

A  mother  orders  her  daughter  to  be  taught  the 


rroN  cntustiAN  rtRFECTiox.  $05 

'■^atechisni^  and  desires  that  she  may  Iiave  books  of 
devollon  ;  the  dauglucr  would  have  imagined  thai 
she  was  to  have  formed  herself  by  these  books,  she 
w^ould  have  read  them  when  she  Avas  alone  ;  but 
^.hat  she  fmds  her  mother  sits  up  at  night  to  read 
romances,  and  if  she  is  ill  must  be  read  to  sleep  with 
a  play.  She  might  liave  had  some  notion  of  reli- 
gious modesty  and  humilily  ;  but  that  she  sees  her 
mother  eager  after  all  diversions  ;  impatient  till  she 
knows  all  intrigues  ;  fond  of  the  wit  and  flattery 
of  rakes  ,•  pleased  with  the  gentility  oifops.  and  the- 
gracefulness  o( players. 

Now  a  daughter  educated  v/ith  a  mother  of  this 
temper  and  conversation,  is  rendered  almost  inca- 
nable  of  reli2:ioni 

This  therefore  may  be  One  reason  why  a  vain  un- 
•edifying  conversation  gi^.cves  the  Holy  Spirit,  vizv 
because  it  not  only  proceeds  from  a  corruption  of 
heart,  a  disordered  state  of  the  soul ;  but  because  it 
is  so  powerful  in  its  influences,  and  docs  so  much 
harm  to  those  that  we  converse  with.     For  it  is  our 
^communication,  our  ordinary  temper  and  manner  of 
Common  life,  that  affects  other  people  ;  that  either 
hardens  them  in  sin,  or  awakens  them  to  a  sense  of 
|iiety»     Let,  therefore,  all  clergymen,   and   masters 
and  mistresses  of  families  ;  let  them  consider,  that  ii' 
their  ordinary    life,    their  communication    be   vain^ 
impertinent  and  unedifying  ;  that  they  arc  not  only 
in  a  corrupt  state  of  heart,  but  are   guilty  of  cof^ 
rupting  and  perverting  the  hearts  of  those  thai  be- 
long to  them.     Let  them  not  think  that  they  have 
sufficiently  discharged   their  duty,  by  seeing   that 
those  who  relate  to  them  have  their  proper  instruc- 
tions ;  for  it  is  next  to  impossil.)le  for  such  instruc- 
tions to  have  their  proper  x^fiect  against  the  temper 
and  example  of  those  we  converse  w^ith.     If  a  cler- 
gyman plays  and  drinks,  and   sports  with  his  flock 
in  the  week-days,  let  him  not  wonder  if  he  preaches 
fehcm  asleep  on  Sundays.     If  :i  father  is  intemperate  "; 

i  u 


2^6  A    PRACTICAL  TREATISE 

if  he  s7L'cars  and  converse?,  f a  oil  shly  with  his  friends  • 
let  him  not  wonder  that  his  children  cannot  be 
made  virtuous.  For  tliere  is  nothing  that  teaches 
to  any  purpose  hut  our  ordinary  temper,  our  com- 
mon life  and  conversation  ;  and  almost  all  people 
will  be  such  as  those  amongst  whom  they  were 
born  and  bred.  It  is,  therefore,  the  necessary  duty 
of  all  Christians,  in  all  states  of  life,  to  look  care- 
fully to  their  ordinary  behaviour^  that  it  be  not  the 
means  of  poisoning  and  corrupting  the  hearts  of 
those  that  they  converse  with.  They  must  con- 
.sider,  that  all  the  follies  and  impertinencies  of  their 
ordinary  life  and  conversation,  have  the  guilt  of 
destroying  souls  ;  and  that  the  blood  of  those, 
whom  their  follies  have  destroyed,  will  be  required 
at  their  hands. 

It  is  sometimes  said  of  a  foolish^  irregiilar^  and 
xain  person,  that  he  is  only  his  onm  enemy  ;  but  this 
is  as  absurd  as  to  say,  that  a  person  of  exemplary 
and  eminent  piety  is  only  his  orvn  friend  ;  for  as  his 
lively  piety  will  certainly  communicate  itself  to 
those  about  him  ;  so  the  folly  and  impertinent  spii'it 
of  an  irregular  man,  will  naturally  infect  those  who 
are  obliged  to  be  near  him. 

A  mistress,  whose  daily  conversation  is  a  daily 
proof  to  her  maids^  that  she  is  governed  by  a  spirit 
of  true  piety  in  all  that  she  says  and  does,  whose 
regular  life  is  a  continual  visible  labour  to  work  out 
her  salvation  with  fear  and  iremhling^  is  a  blessing 
to  all  that  stand  about  her  ;  she  communicates  hap- 
piness even  to  those  who  are  boni  of  her  servants  ; 
they  will  be  educated  in  piety,  because  their  parents 
learnt  what  piety  was,  in  waiting  on  such  a  mistress. 

A  crood-nalurcd^  drinking,  sh£pi7ig,  playing,  srcear- 
'ing  master,  is  a  curse  to  those  who  tend  upon  him ; 
they  are  led  into  all  irregularities,  by  following 
his  steps  ;  and  are  sent  into  the  world  hardened 
in  follies,  and  insensible  of  religion,  by  having  lived 
v^iih  such  a  maslcr.  This,  therefore,  ought  carefully 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  20j 

to  be  considered  by  all  Christians,  as  a  mighty  civ 
couragcmcnt  to  an  exact  strictness  and  regularity 
of  behaviour  ;  that  as  a  holy  conversation  entitles  u.. 
to  a  reward  for  other  people's  virtues,  so  an  c-ciJ 
communication.,  and  the  folly  of  our  lives,  make  us 
liable  to  a  punishment  for  other  men's  sins.  For 
we  can  neither  live  well  or  ill  to  ourselves  alone,  h\\\. 
must  of  necessity  do  either  good  or  harm  to  other-, 
by  our  manner  of  conversation.  This  is  one  grear, 
reason  why  a  vain  corrupt  communication  does  j-o 
grieve  the  Holy  Spirit,  because  it  is  so  infecting  an 
evil,  and  does  so  corrupt  the  manners  of  tho-^e  that. 
v*'e  converse  with.  This  doctrine  of  abstaining 
from  torrr.pt  communication,  that  we  mny  nor 
grieve  the  Spirit  of  God,  teaches  us  a  high  aim. 
and  exalted  degree  of  perfection,  v>^hich  is  peculiar 
to  Christianity.  As  Christianity  lays  the  design  of 
uniting  us  to  God,  and  raising  us  to  a  more  intimate 
])articipation  of  the  divine  nature  ;  so  we  are  to 
make  the  spirit  of  our  religion,  and  the  greatness  of 
its  designs,  the  rule  of  our  perfection. 

We  must  not  only  conduct  ourselves  by  rules  of 
morality,  but  pursue  such  degrees  of  purity  as  can 
only  be  expressed  by  an  imitation  of  God,  and 
aspire  after  such  wisdom  as  is  suggested  to  us,  by 
considering  that  we  are  temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  must  live  like  beings  consecrated  by  the  Spirit  of 
Wisdom.  If  we  were  frequently  to  consider  the 
holy  presence  of  this  God  withiw  us,  and  to  ask  our- 
selves— does  this  discourse,  this  behaviour,  become 
one  who  is  to  act  according  to  the  inspirations  of 
the  Divine  Spirit  ?  W^e  should  find,  that  the  very 
ihought  of  this  dignity  of  our  state  would  deter- 
mine several  points  where  no  express  law  condemns 
us  ;  we  should  find  such  a  contrariety  in  many  of 
our  allowed  ways  to  our  Christian  greatness,  to 
this  Holy  Spirit  that  is  given  unto  us,  as  would 
sufficiently  check  our  behaviour,  only  by  showin^^ 
us  that  we  acted  below  ourselves. 


208  A    PRACTICAL    TRtATloE 

It  Is  common  in  life  to  hear  a  man  saj,  This  dotis^ 
Dot  become  a  gentleman  ;  That  does  not  become  a 
man  of  quality  \  now  I  would  have  us  find  out 
:^omething  like  this  in  religion  ;  for  certainly  if  any 
^^tate  of  life  has  its  dignity,  which  can  excite  men 
fo  a  suitable  greatness  of  action,  suf'ely  the  state 
of  a  Christian,  which  is  a  state  of  such  relation  to 
God,  which  unites  us  to  his  Holy  Spirit,  ought  to 
rais^  in  us  a  desire  of  acting  suitable  to  so  exalted 
a  condition*  For  who  can  so  justly  be  afraid  of 
actinj:(  below  himself,  as  he  that  is  made  one  with 
(.'hrist?  Who  can  so  rcasonal:)ly  think  that  he  is- 
never  wii>e,  or  holy,  or  pure  enough,  as  he  that  is 
to  walk  with  God  in  the  light  of  his  Holy  Spirit, 
whose  soul  and  body  is  made  a  sacred  temple  for 
the  divine  presence  ? 

The  heathen  philosophers  exhorted  man  to  reve- 
rence his  reason  as  a  ray  of  the  Deity  ;  but  we  can 
go  much  higher  ;  we  can  exhort  him  to  reverence 
the  Deity  that  dwelleth  in  him,  and  to  act  with 
such  purity  as  becomes  persons  that  are  inspired 
by  the  Holy  Ghost. 

This  is  the  improvement  that  we  are  to  make  of 
this  doctrine  of  divine  grace  ;  it  must  make  us  ex- 
act and  careful  of  our  behaviour,  that  we  may  walk 
worthy  of  that  Holy  Spirit  that  dwelleth  in  us. 


CHAP.  X. 

TTie  Necessity  of  divine  Grace  ohligeth  all  Christians 
to  a  constant  purity  and  holiness  of  Conversation  ; 
leiherein  is  shorcn  the  great  Danger^  and  great  Im^ 
piety  of  reading  vain  and  impertinent  Books. 

I  HAVE  shown  in  the  foregoing  chapter,  that 
the  necessity  of  divine  grace  is  a  mighty  argument 
for  an  universal  care  and  exactness  of  life  and  coiV' 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  209 

vernation.  I  come  now  to  speak  to  one  remarkable, 
branch  of  it ;  Let  no  corrupt  communication  proceed 
out  of  your  mouth,  but  that  zohich  is  good  to  the  use  of 
edififing,  that  it  may  minister  grace  to  the  hearers  ;  and. 
grieve  not  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God,  ivhtreby  ye  are- 
sealed  to  the  day  of  redemption.  Now  if  we  are 
to  let  no  corrupt  communication  proceed  out  of  our 
mouth,  that  we  may  not  grieve  the  Holy  Spirit,  and 
separate  him  from  us  ;  then  it  follows,  that  we  are 
also  to  deny  ourselves  the  entertainment  of  all  cor- 
rupt, impertinent,  and  uncdifying  books.  For  if  vain 
and  idle  words  are  not  to  proceed  out  of  our 
mouths,  we  must  be  under  the  same  necessity  of 
not  letting  them  enter  into  our  hearts. 

If  we  would  know  what  books  are  to  be  avoided, 
as  corrupt  and  grievous  to  the  Holy  Spirit,  we  must 
look  back  to  the  rule  of  our  communication  ;  for  as 
that  communication  is  there  said  to  lie  corrupt,iha.[ 
does  not  edify  and  minister  grace  to  the  hearers,  so 
must  we  look  upon  ail  those  books  as  corrupt, 
■\vhich  do  not  improve  and  confirm  our  hearts  in 
virtue,  or,  in  the  apostle's  words,  such  as  do  noi: 
edify  and  minister  grace  to  the  readers.  Nov^ 
this  book-entertainment  is  as  certainly  forbidden  by 
the  apostle,  as  cheating  is  forbidden  by  the  eighth 
commandment  ;  for  if  1  am  not  to  say  foolish  and 
impertinent  things  myself,  because  such  a  commu- 
nication grieves  and  removes  the  Holy  S])irit  oi 
God  ;  I  am  as  certainly  forbid  the  reading  the  cor- 
rupt and  impertinent  sayings  of  other  people.  The 
books  which  mostly  corrupt  our  hearts,  and  fill  us 
with  a  spirit  of  folly,  are  such  as  almost  all  the 
world  allow  themselves  to  read  ;  I  mean  books  of 
7cit  and  humour,  romances,  plays,  and  other  produc- 
tions of  the  poets.  Thus  a  grave  orthodox  old  gen- 
tleman, if  he  hears  that  his  niece  is  very  good,  and 
delights  in  reading,  will  fill  her  closet  with  volumes 
of  plays,  and  poems  on  several  occasions,  on  pur- 
pose to  encourage   her  to  spend  her  UniQ   well-. 

1  8* 


210  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

There  is  not,  perhaps,  a  more  surprising  infatuatior> 
in  the  conduct  of  Christians,  than  with  regard  to 
these  books. 

A  father  would  be  very  much  troubled  to  see  his 
daughter,  in  conversation,  pleased  with  the  kicd 
remarks  of  a  rake  ;  he  would  be  afraid  that  she  had 
lost  the  virtue  of  her  mind,  if  she  could  relish  such 
a  turn  of  conversation  :  yet  this  same  father  shall 
help  his  daughter  to  a  volume  of  occasional  poems 
for  her  closet  entertainment,  full  of  such  gross  ini- 
'niodesties.,  as  hardly  any  rake  would  venture  to  ex- 
press in  any  conversation.  It  is,  perhaps,  a  collec- 
tion of  ihe  poet''s  finest,  strongest,  and  most  finished 
thoughts  in  lewdness  and  immodesty.  Every  w^an- 
tonness  of  imagination,  every  transport  of  passion, 
every  extravagance  of  thought,  which  ever  seized 
him  in  his  life,  is  there  preserved  for  the  medita-. 
lion  of  the  Christian  reader  ;  as  \i profimmess^  blas- 
phemy, the  grossest  descriptions  of  lust,  and  the 
wildest  sallies  of  impure  passions,  were  made  good 
and  useful  for  a  Christian,  by  bein;^  put  into  rhym& 
and  measure.  And  what  shows  tiiis  infatuatlcm  in 
a  yet  higher  degree  is  this,  that  it  is  still  a  prevail-- 
ing  opinion  in  the  world,  that  the  reading  virtuous 
books  is  a  great  means  of  improving  in  virtue  :• 
whereas  one  would  suppose,  that  the  books  I  have 
mentioned  could  only  be  allowed  upon  a  belief, 
that  t'here  was  neither  good  nor  harm  to  be  got 
l)y  reading. 

But  however  let  us  remember^  that  though  the 
way  of  the  world,  wdiich  is  thus  inconsistent,  may 
allow  this  polite  kind  of  entertainment  ;  yet  this  is 
no  rule  or  security  for  our  conduct,  since  we  are  no- 
more  to  make  the  spirit  of  the  world  our  ,2;uide, 
than  we  are  to  make  the  riches  of  the  world  our 
happiness.  The  doctrines  of  the  Scriptures  are 
the  only  rule  by  which  we  are  now  to  live,  and 
^he  rule  by  which  we  shall  hereafter  be  judged. 
Now  if  we  will  allow  ourselves  in  the  reading  pro- 


UPON    CimiSTIAN    PERFECTION.  211 

faile^  impure^  and  unperliiient  bookn,  which  have 
C'icry  thing  in  them  that  can  pervert  our  undor- 
standings,  and  corrupt  our  hearts  5  though  the  Scri}> 
ture  lorbids  all  xinedlfying  discourse^  as  a  thing  tliaf. 
grieves  the  Holy  Spirit  ;  it  must  be  said,  that  we 
act  as  contrary  to  Scripture  as  if  we  indulged  and 
pleased  ourselves  in  malice  and  revenge. 

Yoa  read  'dplai/  ;  I  toll  you  that  you  read  ribal- 
(Jry  and  profaneness;  that  you  iill  your  mind  w^ith 
extravagant  thoughts,  lewd  intrigues,  vain  fictions, 
wanton  ideas,  and  impure  descriptions.  If  you  ask 
me  Avhere  is  the  sin  of  this,  you  may  as  well  ask  me 
where  is  the  sin  of  sivearing^  and  lymg  :  for  it  is  a 
sin,  not  only  against  this,  or  that  particular  text, 
but  it  is  a  sin  against  the  ivhole  nature  and  spirit  of 
our  religion  ;  it  is  a  contradiction  to  all  holiness^ 
and  to  all  the  methods  of  arriving  at  it.  For  if  evil 
unedifyins;  communication  be  forbidden  iri  Scrip- 
ture, and  for  this  reason,  because  it  grieves  the  Spi- 
rit of  God  ;  then  the  entertainment  of  such  books 
is  certainly  forbidden.  For  certainly  the  wild  rant, 
the  profane  speeches,  filthy  jests,  and  impure  pas- 
sions, which  there  abound,  are  an  evil  communica- 
tion in  the  highest  degree,  and  must,  therefore^ 
highly  grieve  and  separate  tt\e  Holy  Spirit  from  U9». 
Can  therefore  any  practice  be  forbid  upon  a  more 
dreadful  penalty  than  this  ?  For  without  the  Spirit 
of  God,  wc  ai*e  but  figures  of  Christians,  and  must 
die  in  our  sins.  If,  therefore,  we  can  prove  it  to  be 
a  small  matter  to  grieve  the  Spirit  of  God,  then  we 
may  allow  that  it  is  but  a  small  offence  to  please 
ourselves  in  reading  those  corrupt  books.  Our  bles- 
sed Saviour  saith,  out  of  tlie  heart procc-'d  evil  thoughts^ 
and  that  these  are  the  thi-ifrs  that  defile  a  man  ;  must 
it  not,  therefore,  be  a  ^reat  defilement  to  take  evil 
thoughts  into  our  hearts ;  Need  we  any  other  mo- 
tive than  ihis,  to  watch  and  Gjuard  the  purily 
of  our  minds  ?  He  that,  notwithstanding  this  doc- 
ti'ine  of  our  Saviour's,  dares  to  set  apart  times  for 


212  A   PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

reading  the  evil  and  impure  thoughts  that  are 
in  these  books,  does  as  plainly  despise  the  doctrine 
of  Christ  as  he  that  murders,  despises  the  doctrine 
of  the  sixth  commandment. 

You  will  say,  perhaps,  that  you  only  read  these 
books  now  and  then  for  amusement^  and  only  to 
.divert  your  spirits  ;  and  that  most  of  the  time  which 
you  devote  to  reading,  is  spent  in  reading  books 
that  may  improve  your  piety.  If  this  be  your  case, 
you  can  say  that  for  yourself  which  very  few  can  ; 
for  the  generality  of  readers  make  other  books  their 
chief  and  most  constant  entertainment.  But  to 
speak  now  to  your  excuse  :  you  only  read  such 
books  now  and  then  for  your  amusement,  and  to 
divert  your  spirits  ;  that  is,  you  entertain  your  mind 
with  evil  thoughts,  you  read,  relish,  and  digest  the 
lewdness^  profaneness^  and  impurity  of  these  books, 
not  with  a  serious  design  of  makiug  yourself  lewd, 
profane,  and  impure,  but  only  as  it  were  in  jest, 
and  to  have  a  little  pleasure  from  them.  Now  this 
is  the  plain  meaning  of  this  excuse,  which  is  as  ab- 
surd as  any  thing  can  well  be  supposed.  It  is  as  if 
a  man,  who  allows  himself  now  and  then  to  get 
drunk,  and  S7vear,  and  rant,  should  say  in  his  excuse, 
that  he  is,  for  the  most  part,  very  sober ;  and  that, 
when  he  takes  these  liberties,  it  is  not  through  any 
desire  or  liking  of  the  sin  of  drunkenness,  but  only 
as  it  were  in  jest,  and  through  the  mere  gaiety  of 
his  spirits.  You  will  ask,  perhaps,  if  the  sin  of 
reading  plays  be  like  the  sin  of  drunkenness  ?  I 
answer,  very  like  it,  and  perhaps  equally  grievous 
to  the  Spirit  of  God.  For  are  not  evil  thoughts, 
vanity  of  mind,  and  impurity  of  heart,  the  most 
dreadful  state  that  we  can  be  in  ?  Can  you,  there- 
fore, imagine,  that  the  feedino;  and  entertaining  your 
mind  with  evil  thoughts,  and  impure  discourses,  is 
a  less  sin  than  drinking  too  much  ?  What  rule  of 
reason  or  scripture  have  you  to  go  by  in  such  a 
judgment  ?  You  may  fancy  that  there  is  something 


n»ON  eirRisTiAN  ferfectiox.  21  o- 

much  more  gross  and  shameful  in  drunkenness  than 
in  this  practice  y  but  if  you  would  judge,  not  by 
fancy,  but  by  the  light  of  religion,  you  Avould  tind, 
that  it  is  a  drunkenness  and  intemperance  of  the 
mind,  as  gross  and  shameful^  as  abominable  in  the 
sight  of  God,  and  as  contrary  to  f)iety,  as  that 
stupid  intemperance  which  consists  in  drinking  toes 
much. 

One  great  shame  of  drunkenness  is  this  :  that  it 
iits  us  for  r'lhaldry^  and  all  the  folly  of  discourse  % 
that  it  m.akes  us  say  silly  things  ourselves,  and  be 
])lea3cd  Avith  the  mo^i  fbolish  rant,  and  extravagant 
nonsense  of  other  people*  Are  not  you,  therefore^ 
doing  that  which  is  most  shameful  in  drunkenness  ? 
And  is  it  not  a  sign  of  greater  impurity,  and  greater 
want  of  piety,  for  you  coolly  and  soberly  to  seek 
and  relish  such  rant  and  folly  of  discourse,  such 
profane  jests  and  wantonness  of  wit,  as  men  are 
most  pleased  with,  when  drink  has  made  them  half 
mad  ?  Now  the  liking  of  such  discourse  as  this, 
makes  up  great  part  of  the  guilt  of  drunkenness, 
must  it  not,  therefore,  imply  a  greater  guilt  in  you, 
who  like  such  foolish  discourse  when  you  are  sober? 
Drunken  men  like  ill  discourse,  because  reason  and 
religion  have  then  no  power  over  them.  ;  if,  there- 
fore, you  have  os  false  a  judgment,  and  relish  a  dis- 
course that  is  ecjually  foolish  and  mad,  must  it  not 
he  owing  to  the  same  thing,  because  reason  and  re- 
ligion  have  then  no  ]')ow^er  over  you  ?  Dntnken  men 
like  any  sort  of  madness;  they  are  not  nice  in  their 
taste  ;  if  a  discourse  be  but  wild  or  lewd,  they  de- 
light in  it ;  but  you  like  only  a  madness  tliat  is  put 
into  verse  ;  you  only  delight  in  the  impure  descrip- 
tions and  ravings  of  lust,  when  they  are  adorned 
with  lewtiful  expressions,  and  made  inuslcal  to  the 
ear.  So  that  the  difference  betwixt  vou  and  a^ 
drunken  man  does  not  consist  in  this,  that  you  have 
a  more  religious  tasle^  or  purity  of  ivAud  than  he  ; 
but  in  this,  that  he  likes  all  s.orts  of  rant  and  waiw 


214  A     PRACTKSAL    TREATISE 

tonncss  of  discourse  ;  l)ut  you  do  not  like  it,  unless 
it  be  in  rhi/me,  and  divided  into  acts  and  scenes*  He 
likes  a  song  because  it  is  a  song  ;  but  you  do  not 
like  it,  unless  its  impurity  and  profaneness  be 
made  more  charming  by  soft  and  dying  sounds, 
{i\  therefore,  a  young  lady  will  go  to  bed  with  her 
phty^  she  must  not  reckon  herself  better  employed 
than  her  brother,  who  is,  at  the  Same  time  ^  half  mad 
ever  his  botlle»  For  it  is  impossible  to  show,  that 
the  entertaining  ourselves  with  such  evil  thoughts 
'dnd  filthy  communications  is  a  less  sin,  than  to  be 
ranting  over  a  bottle.  He  that  can  do  this  may  also 
prove,  that  it  is  a  less  sin  to  tell  a  lie  when  you  are 
'Sober  than  when  you  are  drunk, 

J^gain  ;  You  say  in  your  excuse,  that  you  only 
read  these  books  now  and  then,  to  divert  your  spi- 
rits, and  that  you  mostly  read  good  books.  Now 
<  his  excuse  carries  its  own  conviction;  for  it  ac- 
knowledges all  that  is  necessary  to  condemn  it  :  for 
it  owns  that  these  books  are  vain  and  corrupting^ 
that  they  are  of  a  contrary  nature  to  good  books, 
and  naturally  produce  contrary  effects  :  and  you 
reckon  yourself  only  secure  from  being  hurt  hy 
them,  for  this  reason,  because  your  mind  is  so  well 
seasoned  and  strengthened  l)y  the  use  of  good  books. 
But  pray  consider  the  absurdity  of  all  this  :  for  this 
is  saying,  I  venture  into  temptations  ;  not  because 
I  cannot  avoid  them,  or  am  ignorant  that  they  are 
temptations,  but  because  I  know  myself  to  be  strong, 
1  read  impure  imaginations,  JUthy  jests,  and  pro- 
fane harangues  ;  not  because  they  are  an  harmless, 
innocent  diversion  ;  but  because  the  purity  and 
piety  of  my  mind  is  too  great  to  receive  the  least 
injury  from  them. 

Now  nothing  caa  be  conceived  more  absurd  and 
irreligious  than  such  an  excuse  as  this.  Yet  what 
Christian  that  reads  plays  can  possil)ly  make  a 
better  ?  For  to  say  that  our  plays  are  not  full  of 
profane  rant^  flthy  jests,  and  gross  descriptions  of 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  215 

impurity,  is  the  same  thing  as  to  say,  that  \vc  have 
Y\o  plays  ill  English. 

Farther ;  there  is  a  proper  time  for  every  thing 
that  is  lawful  to  be  done  :  now  can  you  tell  me 
when  it  is  proper  for  a  Christian  to  meditate  upon 
these  books  ?  Is  it  to  be  left  to  your  temper  to 
entertain  yourself  as  it  suits  with  you,  or  can  your 
reason  point  out  the  convenient  seasons  for  it  ?  If 
you  are  blindly  to  follow  your  temper  ;  then  you 
are  in  no  better  state  than  other  people,  who  are 
blindly  following  other  tempers.  If  your  reason 
can  ap]3oint  any  time  for  such  entertainment,  it 
must  be  because  there  is  some  time  that  is  proper 
for  it.  Now  the  diflcrent  times  or  states  of  our 
mind,  may  perhaps  be  all  comprehended  under 
some  one  of  these. 

There  is  a  time  when  our  hearts  are  more  than 
ordinarily  raised  towards  God  ;  when  we  feel  the 
joys  and  comforts  of  religion,  and  enjoy  a  peace 
that  passes  all  understanding.  Now  1  suppose 
reason  will  not  allot  this  time  for  the  diversion  of 
such  books. 

There  is  a  time,  when  either  through  the  neglect 
of  duty,  remorse  of  mind,  worldly  vexations,  bodily 
tempers,  or  the  absence  of  God's  Spirit,  that  we  sink 
into  dejection  and  dulness,  grow  burthensomxC  to 
ourselves,  and  can  hardly  think  of  any  thing  with 
satisfaction.  Now  if  reason  is  to  judge,  this  is  of 
all  times  the  most  improper  for  such  entertainment. 
For  if  there  is  any  Hme  that  is  more  proper  than 
another  to  think  upon  God,  it  is  when  we  are  in, 
heaviness. 

When  we  are  sick,  it  is  time  to  apply  to  the  phy- 
sician ;  when  we  are  weary,  it  is  a  pro]icr  time  to 
rcsl ;  now  there  is  the  same  natural  fitness  in  having 
recourse  to  God  ^nd  religion,  when  we  are  under 
any  dejection  of  mind.  For  it  is  not  more  the  sole 
property  of  light  to  dispel  darkness,  than  it  is  the 
property  of  religion  to  relieve  all  uneasiness.  Is  any 


^16  A  PRACtlCAL  TREATISE 

one  afftirtcdj  says  the  apostle,  let  him  pray.  Now 
this  we  arc  to  look  upon,  not  only  as  a  wise  advice 
of  something  that  is  vcj-y  good  to  be  done  in  alHic- 
lion  ;  but  as  a  strict  command,  that  leaves  us  no 
choice  of  doing  any  thing  in  the  stead  of  it. 

JL  is  as  absolute  a  command,  as  if  he  said,  Hath 
■any  one  sinned  let  him  repent.  For  an  application 
(o  God,  is  as  much  the  one  thing  to  be  done  in  the 
iiour  of  trouble,  as  repentance  is  the  one  thing  to  b6 
done  in  time  of  sin*  Our  blessed  Saviour  saith, 
he  of  good  comfort  I  have  overcome  iht  zvorhL  He 
therefore,  that  in  the  want  of  comfort  seeks  for  it 
in  any  thing  else,  but  in  the  redemption  of  Christy 
in  his  conquest  over  the  world,  is  no  more  a  true 
Christian,  than  he  that  docs  not  believe  in  Christ. 

You  seem  to  make  times  of  dulness  the  occasion 
of  your  reading  those  books,  by  saying  that  you  only 
read  them  to  divert  your  spirits  ;  so  that,  that  which 
you  take  to  be  a  reason  for  reading  them,  is  a  strong 
objection  against  it.  For  it  is  never  sO  improper  to 
read  those  books,  as  when  you  want  to  have  your 
spirits  raised,  or  your  mind  made  easy  to  itself. 
For  it  is  the  highest  abuse  you  can  put  upon  your- 
self to  look  for  ease  and  quiet  in  any  thing,  but  in 
I'isiht  apprehensions  of  God's  providence.  And  it  i.^ 
u  sin  against  the  zvhole  nahire  of  religion,  not  to  make 
it  the  whole  measure  and  reason  of  all  your  peace, 
and  enjoymcBt  in  every  occurrence  of  life. 

If  you  must  amuse  yourself  with  a  volume  of 
plays^  because  you  are  laid  up  with  a  broken  les;^  or 
have  lost  a  friend^  you  are  as  far  from  wisdom,  as  a 
child  that  is  to  be  made  quiet  with  a  rattle^  and  not 
much  more  religious  than  those  who  worship  idols; 
for  to  seek  to  such  things  Sov  relief  and  refreshment, 
is  like  applying  to  the  devil  in  distress.  A  man 
that  drinks  drams  every  time  he  is  dull  or  uneasy,  is 
[i.  i^ise^  prudent^  and  sober  nr^n^  if  compared  to  the 
Christian  that  in  seasons  of  dejection  has  recourse 
to  wanton  wit,  and  profane  rant,  to  divert  his  spirits; 


UPON   CHniSTlAN    PERFECTION.  21  7 

\\c  destroys  the  religion  and  purity  of  his  mind 
iimcli  more  eflectualiy,  than  the  oLhcr  destroys  the 
constitution  and  health  of  his  body. 

Some  people  think,  that  in  great  distresses  it  is 
proper  to  seek  comfort  in  God  and  rehgious  re- 
ilexions  ;  but  ihat  in  the  Ultle  troubles  and  vexations 
of  life,  any  thing  that  can  divert  the  mind  from 
them,  is  as  well.  But  this  is  very  absurd  ;  for  surely 
if  God  is  our  proper  and  sufficient  comfort  in  great 
distresses,  he  must  also  be  our  hesi  reluf  in  those 
that  are  smaller.  Unless  it  can  be  said,  that  the 
truths  of  religion  are  able  to  make  us  bear  persecu- 
tion and  martyrd'mi  with  content,  but  not  great 
enough  to  make  us  easy  in  little  trials. 

Secondly,  To  seek  for  relief  in  foolish  diversions, 
is  not  only  applying  to  a  false  remedy,  but  is  also 
destroying  the  chief  power  of  religion.  For  as  reli- 
gion has  no  powder  over  us,  but  as  it  is  our  happi- 
ness ;  so  far  as  we  neglect,  or  refuse  to  make  use 
of  its  comforts,  so  far  we  lessen  and  destroy  its 
power  over  us.  For  it  can  no  otherwise  be  the 
ordinary  daily  care  of  our  lives,  than  by  being  our 
ordinary  happiness  and  consolation  in  all  the  chan- 
ges and  chances  of  life.  A  Christian  therefore  is 
to  make  his  Christianity  his  comfort,  not  only  in 
limes  o(  great  trial  and  suflerings,  but  in  all  the  les- 
ser vexations  of  life,  that  by  this  means  every  little 
occasion  of  grief  or  disquiet,  may  be  an  occasion 
of  his  being  more  affected  with  religion,  and  mad<5 
more  sensible  of  its  true  comforts. 

Thirdly,  Those  who  are  for  driving  away  the 
ordinary  cares,  and  little  vexations  of  human  life  by 
diversions^  do  not  enough  consider  the  nature  of 
human  life.  For  the  little  ordinary  troubles  of  life, 
make  up  the  ivhole  trouble  of  life  ;  and  the  reason 
why  so  many  people  are  full  of  trouble  and  uneasi- 
ness, is  because  they  are  unalile  to  bear  them,  be- 
cause they  do  not  use  the  proper  means.  For  since 
every  disquiet  is  at  something  or  other  that  concerns 

19 


218  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

our  State  and  condition,  there  is  no  way  of  relieving 
us  from  this  disquiet,  but  by  getting  right  notions 
of  our  condition.  If  children  were  capable  of  know- 
ing themselves,  or  could  be  taught  the  nature  of 
things,  we  should  not  use  such  methods  of  pleasing 
them  as  we  do  5  but  as  they  cannot  think  and  reflect, 
we  never  endeavour  to  reason  them  into  content ;  but 
if  they  have  lost  one  playthings  we  only  promise 
them  another.  The  application  is  here  very  easy : 
for  if  men  will  make  themselves  happy,  as  children 
are  made  happy,  not  by  considering  the  nature  of 
things,  but  by  a  change  of  amusement  s^  they  must  also 
expect  to  have  the  vexations  and  torments  of  chil- 
dren, and  be,  like  them,  laughing  and  crying  at  they 
know  not  what,  all  the  days  of  their  life.  For  chil- 
dren are  only  easily  vexed,  because  they  are  easily 
pleased,  and  it  is  certain  that  they  who  can  be  plea- 
sed with  things,  without  knowing  their  worth  and 
value,  must  in  the  same  degree  be  liable  to  be  dis- 
pleased at  things,  without  knowing  their  weight  and 
importance.  And  as  this  is  the  true  state  of  child- 
hood ;  so  whoever  is  in  this  state,  whatever  his 
age  may  be,  his  office,  his  dignity  in  life,  is  yet  as 
truly  in  the  state  and  folly  of  childhood,  as  he  that 
is  but  four  years  old  :  take  an  instance  or  two. 

A  child,  whose  heart  is  half  broken  at  some  mis- 
fortune, may  perhaps  be  made  easy  with  a  picture 
of  a  huntsman  and  a  pack  @f  hounds  ;  but  if  you 
would  comfort  ihe  father  that  griev^es  for  his  eldest 
son,  the  hounds  must  be  all  alive^  they  must  cry  and 
rtm,  and  follow  a  hare ;  and  this  will  make  the  father 
as  easy  as  ih.e  picture  made  the  child  ;  such  happi- 
ness will  make  him  bear  the  loss  of  his  son. 

A  mother  comforts  her  litde  girl  with  a  pack  of 
cards  that  are  finely  painted  :  by-and-by  she  wants 
(o  be  comforted  herself;  some  great  calamity  has 
happened  to  her.  Now  you  must  not  think  to 
comfort  her  with  painted  cards^  or  building  houses 
with  them  ;  her  grief  is  too  great,  and  she  has  been 


UPON"   CHRIStlAN   PERFECTION.  219 

too  long  a  mother^  to  be  pleased  with  such  things  ; 
it  is  only  Serious  ombre  that  can  dry  licr  eyes,  and 
remove  sorrow  from  her  heart. 

I  might  easily  multiply  instances  of  this  kind  ; 
but  these  are  sufficient  to  show  us,  that  persons  of 
age  and  authority  often  differ  only  from  children,  as 
one  child  may  differ  from  another.  This  is  the  true 
reason  why  human  life  is  so  full  of  complaint,  why  if 
is  such  a  mixture  of  ridiculous  pleasures,  and  vain, 
disquiets  ;  namely,  because  we  live  in  an  entire  igno- 
rance of  the  nature  of  things,  never  considering  why 
we  are  pleased  with  this,  or  displeased  with  that, 
nor  any  more  appeal  to  religion  to  correct  our  judg- 
ments, than  children  appeal  to  reason  to  form  their 
tempers.  For  if  we  will  only  piny,  or  lull  ourselves 
into  repose,  as  children  are  rocked  to  sleep,  it  is  not 
to  be  wondered  at,  if  like  them,  we  cry  as  soon  as 
we  are  aivake  :  for  every  false  relief  that  is  nor 
founded  in  yeason,  is  only  adding  to  the  weaknes- 
and  disorder  of  our  nature,  and  making  us  more 
liable  to  farther  vexations.  For  it  is  absiolutely  cer- 
tain, that  a  person,  who  is  made  easy  by  vain  and 
false  satisfactions,  is  in  the  same  degree  capable  of 
being  made  uneasy  by  vain  and  ridiculous  vexations. 
They,  therefore,  who  do  not  think  it  necessary  to 
apply  to  religion  in  all  the  common  and  ordinary- 
disquiets  of  life,  mistake  the  nature  of  human  life, 
not  considering  that  it  is  our  applying  false  relief  to 
these,  that  is  the  occasion  of  all  our  troubles,  and 
that  we  are  weak  and  impatient,  fretful  and  dissat- 
isfied, for  no  other  reason,  but  because  we  never 
made  use  of  the  right  remedy  against  the  ordinary 
accidents  of  life  ;  for  had  we  but  learnt  to  bear  little 
troubles  and  disappointments  upon  right  reasons^ 
because  we  are  Christians,  and  Children  of  "God,  we 
should  find  but  few  troubles  that  would  have  any 
great  trial  in  them.  And  the  reason  why  people 
seemingly  religious,  are  subject  to  the  same  dulness 
and  peevishness,  to  the  same  vexations  and  vaj-ietv 


2^0  A     PRACTICAL    TREATI^ 

of  griefs  that  other  people  ore,  is  this,  because  they 
make  no  more  use  of  their  religion  on  these  occa- 
sions, than  other  people  :  they  do  not  so  much  as 
intend  to  keep  themselves  easy,  thankful,  and  cheer- 
ful, by  making  religion  the  measure  and  standard  of 
all  their  thoughts  and  judgments,  in  all  the  common 
xhances  of  life,  any  more  than  those  do,  who  have 
no  thoughts  about  religion.  And  this  is  the  reason 
why  you  see  them  as  ridiculous  in  common  life,  as 
vainly  pleased,  and  as  foolishly  vexed  as  other 
people. 

For  religion  makes  no  farther  diiTerencc  bet^Aixt, 
people,  than  so  far  as  it  is  applied.  If  one  man  is 
constant  at  church,  and  another  is  mostly  absent, 
the  difference  betwixt  them  may  yet  be  only  the 
difference  of  frequenting  and  not  frequenting  the 
service  of  the  church.  For  a  religion  only  carried 
thus  far,  makes  no  farther  difference  betwixt  people. 
You  must  not  therefore  expect,  that  they  must  be 
different  persons  in  the  ordinary  behaviour  of  their 
common  life  ;  for  they  may,  notwithstanding  this 
difference  be  equally  vain  and  unreasonable  in  their 
ways,  and  equally  slaves  to  the  folly  and  humour  of 
their  particular  temper.  And  all  this  for  this  plaia 
reason,  because  religion,  like  any  thing  else,  can 
have  no  effect  but  where  it  is  applied. 

Suppose  a  person  had  lame  feet,  and  bad  eyes, 
and  thnt  he  had  an  oil  that  was  an  infallible  cure  for 
them  both,  when  applied  to  both  ;  if  you  saw  him 
only  using  it  for  his  eyes,  you  would  not  wonder 
thai  it  had  not  cured  his  feet  ;  you  would  know, 
that  his  anointing  his  eye^  could  only  cure  his  eyes  ; 
and  that  there  was  no  ground  to  expect  that  his 
feet  should  be  any  better,  till  he  anointed  his  feet  : 
And  all  this  for  this  plain  reason,  because  things 
however  good  in  themselves,  can  have  no  farther 
effect  than  as  (hey  are  applied.  Now  it  is  just  thus 
in  religion.  If  it  consists  only  in  devotions  and 
jpMk  'icorship.  it  has  made  this  alteration  in  a  m^xii 


VPdN    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  2^t 

ilvdi  it  has  taught  him  to  attend  to  devotion  and 
public  worship ;  it  has  operated  so  far  as  he  has  ap- 
phed  it.  But  why  must  you  wonder,  that  he  is  not 
of  a  loise^  virtu(Ms,  and  religwus  temper,  in  all  the 
actions  of  his  ordinary  life  ?  Is  not  this  wondering: 
why  the  oil  has  not  cured  a  man's  fief^  when  he 
has  never  applied  it  to  them,  but  has  only  anointed 
his  eyes  ? 

When  the  regular  churchman  as  plainly  makes 
religion  the  measure  of  his  ordinary  life,  as  he  makes 
it  the  rule  of  his  going  to  church  :  when  he  as 
directly  uses  it  to  this  purpose,  as  a  man  anoints 
his  eyes,  who  w^ould  be  cured  by  anointing  them- : 
then  you  wdll  see  him  as  different  in  his  orclinanf 
life  from  other  people,  as  different  in  his  pleasures 
and  grief,  in  hig  cares  and  concerns,  as  he  is  dif- 
ferent from  them  informs  and  regularity  of  worship. 
But  till  men  do  this  ;  till  they  apply  the  principles 
of  religion  to  all  the  actions  of  ordinary  life  ;  till 
they  make  it  the  measure  of  all  their  daily  tempers, 
their  joys  and  fears  ;  till  they  think  there  is  as  much 
piety  in  being  wise,  and  holy  in  their  common  tem- 
pers, as  in  being  devout  at  church  ;  as  much  sin  in 
being  vainly  pleased  and  foolishly  vexed,  as  in  nc» 
glecting  the  divine  service  ;  till  they  thus  directly 
apply  religion  to  common  life,  as  a  man  applies  a 
remedy  to  the  part  that  he  would  have  cured  ;  it  is  no 
more  to  be  expected,  that  a  religion  o(  forms  of  wor- 
ship and  devotion  should  make  a  man  religious  in 
the  common  judgments  and  actions  of  his  ordinary 
life,  than  it  is  to  be  expected  that  an  oil,  which  is 
only  applied  to  our  eyes^  should  cure  om-  feet.  So 
that  it  is  the  manner  of  our  ordinary  life,  which  car- 
vies  on  a  course  of  fears  and  cares,  pleasures  and 
amusements,  loves  and  hatreds,  suitable  to  our  tem- 
per and  condition  of  life  ;  it  is  this  manner  of  our 
ordinary  life,  which  we  think  is  thus  left  to  ourselves 
that  makes  religion  so  insignificant  in  the  world  ; 
it  lies  by,  like  a  remedy  that  is  unapplied  }  it  has  no 

19* 


^22  A     TRACTICAL    TR£AT1S£ 

effect,  because  it  is  used  only  as  o.  formal  things  that. 
has  its  devotions  and  duties  at  set  times  and  occa- 
sions whereas  it  should  be  used  and  considered  as 
ihe  rule  and  reason  of  all  our  judgments  and  actions ; 
as  the  ?ne(isnire  of  all  our  cares  and  pleasures  ;  as  the 
life  of  our  life,  the  spirit  of  our  spirit,  and  the  very 
form  and  essence  of  all  our  tempers.  It  is  to  be  in 
us,  like  a  nezo  reason  and  judgment  of  our  minds  ;  that 
is,  to  reason  and  judge  of  every  thing  that  we  do, 
and  to  preside  over,  and  govern  all  the  motions  of 
Qur  hearts.  Is  any  one  merry^  saith  the  apostle,  let 
him  sing  psalms  ;  is  any  one  aj^icted  let  him  pray^ 
This  is  religion  in  the  apostle's  account ;  it  is  not 
only  an  attendance  at  the  public  worship,  but  it  is 
the  ruling  habit  of  our  minds,  something  that  con- 
stantly devotes  us  wholly  to  God,  that  allows  of  no 
mirtli  in  our  common  life,  but  a  mirth  proper  for 
the  brethren  of  Christ,  a  mirth  that  can  express 
itself  by  a  rejoicing  in  God  ;  that  allows  of  no  other 
cure  for  grief  or  vexation,  than  what  is  to  be  had 
from  recourse  to  God.  And,  indeed,  what  can  be 
more  senseless  and  absurd,  than  to  see  a  Christian, 
over  acting  in  any  other  consideration  than  as  a 
Christian  ?  He  is  senseless  (o  a  degree  of  madness, 
when  he  indulges  a  thought,  or  a  motion  of  his 
heart,  when  he  either  takes  a  pleasure,  or  relieves 
a  grief,  where  he  cannot  say,  I  do  this  as  a  Chris- 
lian,  as  suitable  to  that  state  in  which  Chx»istianity 
has  placed  me. 

We  reckon  a  man  sufficiently  mad  that  fancies 
himself  a  king^  and  governing  his  subjects,  at  the 
same  time  that  he  is  tied  to  a  bed  of  straw :  so  that 
madness  consists  in  mistaking  our  condition,  in  hav- 
ing a  set  of  thoughts  not  suitable  to  it.  Now^  a 
Christian  repeats  every  day,  1  believe  inthe forgiveness 
ofsin^  the  resurrection  rf  the  body^  and  the  Ife  ever- 
lasting ;  he  thanks  God  fir  the  red(mption  of  Jesus 
Christ,  for  the  means  of  crace^  and  fir  the  hope  of 
^lory.     Yet,  at  the  same  ti^ne,  in  this  state  of  great 


UPOX    CHRISTIAN    PERFLCTIO.W  223 

ness^  he  fancies  himself  in  a  thous((nd  rvants  and  misC' 
rics.  He  cri«:s'and  labours,  and  toils  for  a  ha})pi- 
ness,  that  has  no  existence  but  in  his  ozon  imagina- 
tion ;  he  fancies  himself  a  beings  that  is  to  be  made 
happy  with  sauces  and  ragouts,  with  painted  clothes, 
and  shining-  diamonds  ;  he  seeks  the  pleasures  of 
rakes  and  libertines,  is  grieved  and  fretted  like  a 
child  at  the  loss  of  a  feather  ;  and  must  be  diverted, 
as  they  are,  with  shncs  and  plays,  and  imaginary 
scenes  of  rant  and  nonsense. 

Now  is  not  such  a  one  mad  ?  Does  he  not  know 
as  little  of  his  state,  as  the  man  in  strazo  that  fancies 
himself  a  king  ?  But  for  a  Christian  in  times  of 
dulness  or  vexation,  to  seek  relief  in  foolish  amuse- 
ments, in  the  loose,  wild  discourses  of  plays,  when 
he  should  acquaint  himself  zcith  God,  and  be  at  peace, 
is  a  degree  of  madness  that  exceeds  all  others  ;  it  is 
acting  as  contrary  to  the  nature  of  things,  as  if  a 
man  that  had  lost  the  use  of  his  limbs,  should  choose 
to  comfort  his  lameness  with  painted  shoes,  when 
he  might  have  the  use  of  his  feet  restored.  For  the 
consolations  of  religion  relieve  uneasiness  and 
trouble,  as  a  lame  man  is  relieved  when  his  limbs 
are  restored  ;  they  conquer  grief,  not  by  cheat- 
ing and  deluding  the  weakness  of  our  minds,  but 
as  the  resurrection  conquers  death,  by  restoring 
us  to  a  new  and  glorious  life.  If  ycu  need  any 
farther  conviction,  that  times  of  grief  and  imeasi- 
ness  are  highly  improper  for  these  diversions ;  let 
me  desire  you  to  suppose  that  you  knew  a  Chris- 
tian, who  in  his  l^.st  hours,  sert  for  tmjfcons  and 
jugglers  to  divert  his  mind  from  the  apj  rehensions  of 
death*  I  dare  say  you  have  religious  arguments 
enough,  to  prove  sucli  a  practice  to  be  sUipid  and 
proi'ane  in  the  lilghcst  degree.  But  perhaps  you 
are  not  aware,  that  every  argument  against  such  a 
practice  as  this,  concludes  as  strongly  against  the 
same  practice  at  any  ot'vr  time  of  our  life.  Try 
therefore  with  yourself,  if  every  good  argument 


224  A  PRACTICAL   TREATISE       ^ 

against  such  folly  when  we  are  dying,  will  not  be 
the  same  argument  against  the  same -folly  in  any 
other  part  of  our  life.  For  every  argument  that 
shows  the  impiety  and  folly  of  applying  to  foolish  di- 
versions when  we  are  under  the  troubles  of  death,v,'i\\ 
show  the  same  impiety  and  folly  of  applying  to  such 
relief  in^any  troubles  of  life.  For  to  imagine  that 
we  may  be  ridiculous  and  vain,  and  foolish  in  the 
troubles  of  life ;  but  serious,  holy,  and  religious  in  the 
troubles  of  death,  is  the  same  folly  and  absurdity,  as 
to  suppose,  that  we  must  be  devout  and  penitent  on 
our  death-beds,  but  need  not  be  devout  and  penitent 
in  the  other  parts  of  our  life.  For  as  there  is  no  re- 
ligion or  repentance  on  our  death-bed,  but  what 
ought  to  be  the  religion  of  our  lives  ;  so  is  there  no 
wisdom  or  seriousness,  or  application  to  God  in  the 
sorro7vs  of  death,  hut  what  is  equally  necessary  and 
proper  in  all  the  sorrows  of  life*  For  we  are  obliged 
to  live  unto  God  in  the  same  manner  that  we  are  to 
die  unto  God.  For  why  must  I  think  rightly  of 
death  ?  Why  must  I  then  apply  to  God  ?  Why  must 
I  reason  and  judge  rightly  at  that  time  ?  Why  may 
I  not  then  divert  my  mind  with  loose  and  impertinent 
entertainments  ?  Now  give  but  the  true  reason  of  this^ 
and  you  will  give  the  reason  why  I  am  always  to  live 
in  the  same  manner.  For  as  the  reasons  of  wisdom 
and  holiness  are  not  founded  in  death,  so  do  they 
receive  no  alteration  by  the  approach  of  death  : 
there  is  no  wisdom  and  holiness  but  what  is  equally 
necessary,  whether  I  am  twenty  years  or  twenty 
days  from  death.  Death  may  bring  me  into  a  greater 
fear  of  folly,  but  it  docs  not  bring  me  into  a  greater 
necessitj^  of  avoiding  it  than  1  was  in  before  ,  be- 
cause all  the  reasons  of  piety,  wisdom,  and  devotion 
to  God,  have  been  equally  reasons  all  my  life  ;  for 
the  holiness  and  wisdom  of  persons  in  health,  is  as^ 
necessary,  and  as  much  the  terms  of  acceptance 
with  God,  as  the  holiness  and  wisdom  of  dying  per- 
sons.    And  he  that  d^res  to  be  foolish  and  ygai>, 


t'PON    CHRISTIAN   rERFECTIOX,  225 

and  seeks  impcriinont  entertainments,  because  he 
is  strong  and  in  healthy  is  governed  by  the  same 
spirit,  and  sins  against  the  same  reasons  of  piety,  as 
he  that  dares  to  be  vain,  foolish,  and  impertinent  at 
the  approach  of  death.  When  therefore  you  think 
Jit  to  amuse  yourself  with  foolish  diversions,  :;-nd 
drive  away  what  you  may  call  dull  hours,  with  the 
impertinent  and  wild  imaginations  o^ pfays^&LC.  you 
must  remember,  that  you  are  under  the  same  con- 
demnation as  they  are,  who  apply  to  the  same  relief 
to  ease  tliem  of  the  thoughts  of  death.  For  ^s  we 
uhvavs  stand  in  the  same  relation  to  God,  as  he  is  as 
much  the  true  happiness  of  living,  as  of  dyuig  men  ; 
so  wisdom  and  holiness,  and  rierht  dispositions  of 
our  riiiads,  are  always  duties  of  the  same  nccessi'y* 

If  it  v/ere  ever  lawful  to  forget  our  happiness  ia 
God,  and  seek  for  a  ridiculous  hoppiness  in  vain 
and  extravagant  diversions  ;  if  it  were  ever  proper 
to  live  in  this  temper,  it  would  be  equall}^  proper  to 
die,  in  the  same  temper.  For  we  are  not  upon  any 
n€7o  terms  with  God  at  our  death,  nor  under  any 
other  obligations,  but  such  as  are  equally  necessary 
to  make  us  live  in  his  favour. 

We  often  wonder  at  the  worldly-mindedness,  the 
hardness,  impenitence,  and  insensibility  of  dying 
men.  But  we  should  do  well  to  remember,  that 
worldly-mindedness,  folly,  impenitence,  vanity,  and 
insensibility,  are  as  much  to  be  wondered  at  in  liv- 
ings henlfhfiil  men  ;  and  that  they  are  the  same  odious 
sins,  and  as  contrary  to  all  sense  and  reason,  and 
make  us  as  unlike  to  God  at  one  time  as  at  another. 
Either  therefore  you  must  say,  that  plays  and  such 
like  hooks  are  proper  meditations  for  djdng  men  ; 
that  they  keep  up  a  rigJif  Inrn  of  mind,  and  do  not 
render  the  soul  unacceptable  to  God  ;  or  else  you 
must  own,  that  they  are  a^so  improper  at  a^/  other 
times.  For  any  thing  that  indula:cs  a  state  of  mind 
that  is  not  according  to  the  Tcisdom  and  holiness  of 
religion^  is  equally  unlawful  at  all   times,     Aga'ni  ;• 


226  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

do  hut  consider  your  own  notions  that  you  have  of 
plays,  and  you  will  find,  that  if  you  was  consistent 
with  yourself,  you  would  never  read  them.  Not 
only  you,  but  the  generality  of  readers,  would  think 
it  very  improper,  and  contrary  to  piety,  to  read 
plays  on  the  Sunday*  Now  I  w^ould  have  you  ask 
yourself,  why  it  would  be  so  irreligious  to  read 
these  books  on  the  Sunday  7  Is  it  because  there  is 
such  a  coniraricfy  betwixt  the  subjects  of  sach 
books,  and  the  design  of  the  Sunday  ?  Is  it  be- 
cause they  are  contrary  to  such  meditations  as  we 
should  make  on  that  day  ?  Is  it  because  they  are 
vain,  and  loose  and  profane,  full  of  impure  thoughts 
and  wanton  descriptions  ?  There  can  be  no  pos- 
sible reason  given,  why  we  may  not  read  these 
books  on  the  Sunday,  but  because  they  are  thus 
contrary  to  piety.  Need  a  Christian  therefore 
have  any  other  argument  to  persuade  him  to  refrain 
from  these  books  ?  Is  it  not  a  sufficient  proof  that 
they  are  never  to  be  read,  because  thej^are  not  to  be 
read  because  his  mind  ought  to  have  a  religious 
turn  ?  Can  these  books  be  more  thoroughly  condem- 
ned, than  by  being  thought  too  bad  to  be  opened  on 
the  Sunday  ?  Or  need  we  only  stay  till  Monday,  to  be 
vain  and  foolish ;  to  put  on  a  nezo  temper,  and  take 
delight  in  such  thoughts  and  reflexions,  as  we  durst 
not  touch  the  day  before  ?  If  therefore  we  would 
be  consistent  with  ourselves,  we  must  either  prove, 
iYi'oX plays,  and  such  like  hooks,  are  proper  medita- 
tions for  pious  Christians,  fit  for  the  piety  and  devo- 
tion of  the  Sunday  ;  or  else  acknowledge,  that  they 
are  equally  unfit  for  their  entertainment  at  any 
other  time :  for  it  is  manifestly  certain,  that  we  are 
to  indulge  no  temper  of  mind  on  any  day,  that  we 
may  not  improve  and  delight  in  on  the  Sunday. 

For  to  su})pose  that  we  are  to  have  a  nezv  heart 
and  mind  on  the  Swiday,  different  from  that  taste 
and  temper  which  we  may  indulge  all  the  w^eek,  is 
the  same  folly  as  to  suppose  that  we  need  only  be 


UPON    CHRISTIAN  PERFECTION.  227 

^JirisLlttii^i  on  the  Sunday*  The  diirercnce  betwixt 
Sundays  and  other  days,  does  not  consist  in  any 
difference  in  the  inward  state  of  our  minds,  but  in 
the  outward  circumstances  of  the  day  ;  as  a  general 
rest  from  our  lawful  callings,  and  a  public  celebra- 
tion of  divine  worship.  This  is  the  particular  holi- 
ness of  the  Sunday,  which  requires  a  particular  rest 
from  labour,  and  attendance  at  divine  worship ;  but 
requires  no  particular  inward  holiness  of  the  mind, 
but  such  as  is  the  necessary  holiness  of  every  day. 
So  that  whatever  is  contrary  to  that  holiness,  puri- 
ty, and  wisdom  of  mind,  which  is  to  be  our  temper 
on  the  Sunday,  is  as  much  to  be  abhorred  and 
avoided  all  the  week  as  on  the  Sunday  ;  because 
though  Sunday  differs  from  other  days  in  outward 
marks  of  holiness,yet  Christians  are  to  be  every  day 
alike  as  to  the  inward  state  and  temper  of  their 
minds. 

Therefore,  though  the  labours  of  our  ordinary 
employment  and  other  actions  are  to  be  forborne  on 
the  Sunday,  and  yet  are  very  lawful  on  other  days  4 
yet  the  case  is  very  different  as  to  these  books  ; 
they  are  unfit  to  be  read  at  any  time,  for  the  same 
reason  that  they  are  not  fit  to  be  read  on  Sulidays. 
And  the  reason  is  this,  because  though  we  may  do 
things  on  the  week-days,  that  we  ought  not  to  do 
on  the  Sunday,  yet  we  must  indulge  no  temper;  nor 
support  any  turn  of  mind,  that  is  contrary  to  that 
purity  of  heart  and  mind  w  hich  we  are  to  aspire 
al'ter  on  the  Sunday.  We  may  labour  on  the  week 
days,  because  labour  is  an  external  action,  that  is 
not  contrary  to  any  purity  or  holiiiess  of  mind  ;  but 
we  must  no  more  be  covetous  on  the  week  days 
than  on  Sundays,  because  covetousness  is  a  temper 
of  the  mind,  a  wrong  disposition  of  the  heart,  that 
is  equally  contrary  to  religion  on  all  days. 

Now  reading  is  not  the  labour  of  our  hands,  or 
our  feet  ;  but  is  the  entertainment  and  exercise  of 
the  heart  and  mind;  a  delight  in  cither  good  or  bad 
books,  is  as  truly  a  tcmpei:  and  disposition  of  the 


328  .     A    PRACTICAL  I'REATiSE 

heart,  as  covetousncss  and  pride  is  a  disposition  of 
the  heart.  For  the  saaie  reason,  therefore,  that 
pride  and  covetousncss  are  constantly  to  be  avoided 
on  every  day  of  our  lives,  because  they  are  wrong 
tempers  of  tiic  mind,  and  contrary  to  essential  holi- 
ness ;  for  the  same  reason  is  the  pleasure  of  reading 
ill  and  corrupt  l^ooks,  always  to  be  avoided  at  all 
tmies,  because  it  is  a  temper  and  disposition  of  our 
hearts  that  is  contrary  to  that  state  of  holiness 
which  is  essential  to  Christianity. 

IT  you  was  to  hear  a  Christian  say,  that  on  Sun* 
days  he  abstained  irom  e\;il  speaking,  and  corrupt  ■■ 
communication,  but  not  on  the  v/eek  days,  you 
^vouid  think  him  either  very  ignorant  of  the  nature 
of  religion,  or  very  profane.  Yet  this  is  as  wise 
and  religious  as  to  forbear  reading  ill  books,  and 
^vanton  poems,  only  on  Sundays,  and  to  take  the 
liberty  of  reading  them  at  other  times.  For  that 
vanity',of  mind,  that  foolishness  of  heart,  that  de- 
praved taste,  which  can  relish  the  wild  fictions,  the 
lewd  speeches,  the  profane  language  of  mad  heroes, 
disappointed  lovers,  raying  in  all  the  furious  ex- 
pressions of  lust,  and  passion,  and  madness,  is  as 
corrupt  a  temper,  as  contrary  to  holiness,  and  as 
odious  on  its  own  account,  as  evil  speaking  and 
malice. 

When  therefore  you  see  a  person  reading  a  play 
as  soon  as  he  comes  from  the  Sunday's  solemnity  of 
publit  service,  you  abhor  his  profaneness  ;  but  pray 
be  so  just  to  yourself,  so  consistent  with  common 
sense,  as  to  think  every  one  liable  to  the  same  ac- 
cusation that  delights  in  the  same  book  on  any 
other  time  of  the  week  ;  and  that  the  difference  of 
/  reading  plays  on  week  days,  and  not  on  Sundays, 
is  only  the  difference  of  speaking  evil  on  weak- 
days,  and  not  on  Sundays. 

From  these  reflections,  I  hoDe,  it  S'lfTiciently  ap- 
pears, that  the  readin;]^  vain  and  impertinent  bool^s 
is  no  matter  of  indifference  ;  but  that  it  is  just]  v  to 
ho  reckoned  amongst  our  greatest  corruptions;  that  it 


Ut'ON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  ^^^ 

is  afe  unlawful  as  malice  and  evil  spcoh'ng,  and  is  no 
-more  to  be  allowed  in  anj  part  of  our  life  than 
pride  or  covetoiisness, 

Reading,  when  it  is  an  exercise  of  the  mind  upon 
wise  and  ])ious  subjects,  is,  next  to  prayer,  the  best 
improvement  of  our  hearts  ;  it  enlightens  our  minds, 
collects  our  thoughts,  calms  and  allays  our  passions, 
and  begets  in  us  wise  and  pious  resolutions  :  it  is  a 
labour  that  has  so  many  benefits,  that  does  so  much 
good  to  our  minds,  that  it  ought  never  to  be  em- 
ployed amiss  ;  it  enters  so  far  into  our  souls,  that  it 
<:annot  have  a  little  elfect  upon  us.  We  commonly 
iiay,  that  a  man  is  known  by  his  companions ,  but  it 
is  certain,  that  a  man  is  much  more  known  by  the 
books  that  he  converses  with.  These  closet-corn- 
panions^  with  whom  we  choose  to  be  alone,  and  in 
private,  are  never-failing  proofs  of  the  state  and 
disposition  of  our  hearts. 

When  we  are  abroad,  v/c  must  take  such  as  the 
world  gives  us  ^  we  must  be  with  such  people,  and 
hear  such  discourse,  as  the  com.mon  state  of  our  life 
exposes  us  to.  This  is  what  we  must  bear  with, 
because  not  altogether  to  be  avoided  ;  and  as  it  is  not 
altogether  matter  of  choice,  so  it  is  noproof  of  what 
temper  we  are  of.  But  if  vre  make  our  closet  an 
entertainment  of  greater  variety  and  impertinence 
than  conversation  v/e  can  meet  with  abroad  ;  if 
rakish^  libertine  writers  are  welcome  to  us  in  secret; 
if  hislorits  of  scandal  and  romantic  intrigues  are  to 
be  with  us  in  our  private  retirements  ;  this  is  a 
plain  discovery  of  our  inside^  and  is  a  manifest  proof 
that  we  are  as  vain,  and  foolish,  and  vicious,  as  the 
authors  that  we  choose  to  read.  If  a  loanlon  poem 
pleases  you,  you  may  fairly  reckon  yourself  in  the 
same  state  and  condition  with  him  that  made  it. 
In  like  manner,  if  histories  of  nonsense  and  folly  ;  if 
compositions  of  intrigue  and  scandal  suit  your  tem- 
per, such  books  do  as  truly  represent  your  nature 
^  they  represent  the  nature  of  their  authors. 

20 


^3P  A    TRACTICAL  TREATISE 

Julia  has  buried  her  husband,  and  married  her 
daughters  ;  since  that  she  spends  her  time  in  read- 
ing. She  is  always  reading  foolish  and  unedifying 
l^ooks  ;  she  tells  you  every  time  she  sees  you,  that 
she  is  almost  at  the  end  of  the  silliest  book  that 
ever  she  read  in  her  life  ;  that  the  best  of  it  is,  it  is 
very  long,  and  serves  to  dispose  of  a  good  deal  of 
her  time.  She  tells  you,  that  all  romances  are  sad 
stuff,  3^et  is  very  impatient  till  she  can  get  all  that 
she  can  hear  of.  Histories  of  intrigue  and  scandal 
arc  the  books  that  Julia  thinks  are  always  too  short. 
\i  Julia  was  to  drink  drams  in  private,  and  had  no 
enjoyment  herself  without  them,  she  would  not  tell 
you  this,  because  she  knows  it  would  be  plainly 
telling  you  that  she  was  a  poor  disordered  sot.  See 
here,  therefore,  the  weakness  of  Julia  ;  she  would 
not  be  thought  to  be  a  reprobate  ;  yet  she  lets  you 
know,  that  she  lives  upon  folly  and  scandal,  and 
impertinence  in  her  closet  ;  that  she  cannot  be  in 
private  without  them  ;  that  they  are  the  only  sup- 
port of  her  dull  hours  ;  and  yet  she  does  not  per- 
ceive, that  this  is  as  plainly  telling  you,  that  she  is 
in  a  miserable,  disordered,  reprobate  state  of  mind* 

To  return  :  It  is  reckoned  very  dangerous  not  to 
guard  our  eyes  ;  but  it  is  much  more  dangerous 
not  to  guard  our  meditations  ;  because  whatever  en- 
ters that  way,  enters  deeper  into  our  souls  than  any 
thing  that  only  affects  our  sight.  Reading  and 
meditation  is  that  to  our  souls,  which  food  and  nou- 
rishment is  to  our  bodies,  and  becomes  a  part  of  us 
in  the  same  manner ;  so  that  we  cannot  do  ourselves 
cither  a  little  good,  or  little  harm,  by  the  books 
that  we  read. 

You,  perhaps,  think,  that  it  is  a  dull  task  to  read 
only  religious  and  moral  books ;  but  when  you  have 
the  spirit  of  religion  ;  when  you  can  think  of  God 
as  your  only  happiness ;  when  you  are  not  afraid  of 
the  joys  of  eternity  ;  you  will  think  it  a  dull  task  to 
read  any  other  books.  Do  not  fancy,  therefoi  e^  that 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  231 

your  heart  is  right,  and  that  3^ou  are  well  enough 
affected  with  religion,  though  you  had  rather  read 
books  upon  other  subjects ;  for  it  is  there  that  you 
are  to  charge  your  dullness  ;  religion  has  no  hold  of 
you  ;  the  things  of  eternity  are  not  the  concerns  of 
your  mind ;  it  is  dull  and  tiresome  to  you  to  be  wis(3 
and  pious  ;  and  that  makes  it  a  dull  task  to  read 
books  that  treat  only  upon  such  subjects.  When 
it  is  the  care  of  your  soul  to  be  humble,  holy,  pious, 
and  heavenly-minded ;  when  you  know  any  thing  of 
the  guilt  and  misery  of  sin,  or  feel  a  real  desire  of 
salvation,  you  will  find  religious  books  to  be  the 
greatest  feast  and  joy  of  your  mind. 

If  you  think  it  dull  and  tedious  to  be  in  wise, 
prudent,  and  sober  company,  it  is  because  you  are 
neither  wise  nor  sober  yourself ;  so  if  it  is  dull  and 
tiresome  to  you,  to  be  often  upon  subjects  of  piety 
and  religion,  it  is  as  sure  a  proof  that  you  are  nei- 
ther pious  nor  religious.  If,  therefore,  you  can  sup* 
pose,  that  a  wise  and  sober  man  may  be  most  de- 
lighted with  the  noise  and  revelings  of  drunkenness  ; 
then  you  may  suppose,  that  it  is  possible  for  you  to 
be  truly  religious,  and  yet  be  most  pleased  with 
the  folly  and  impertinence  of  corrupt  and  unedify- 
ing  books.  You,  perhaps,  will  say,  that  you  have 
so  much  spare  time  for  reading,  that  you  think  you 
need  not  employ  it  all  in  reading  good  books.  It 
may  be  so  ;  you  may  have  also  more  time  than  you 
need  devote  to  acts  and  offices  of  charity  ;  but  will 
you  thence  conclude,  that  you  may,  at  those  times, 
do  things  contrary  to  charity,  and  indulge  yourself 
in  spite  and  malice. 

If  you  have  every  day  more  time  than  you  can 
employ  in  reading,  meditation,  end  prayer,  if  this 
time  hansjs  upon  your  hands,  and  cannot  be  turne^i* 
to  any  advantage,  let  me  desire  you  to  go  to  sleep, 
or  pick  stravvs ;  for  it  is  much  better  to  do  this  tlian 
to  have  recourse  to  corrupt  and  impertinent  books. 
Time  lo^t  in  sleep,  or  picking  straws,  is  better  losi 


232  A  FRACTlGAL  TRKATrSt 

than  in  such  exercises  of  the  mind.  Consider  far- 
ther, that  idle  and  spare  time  is  a  dangerous  state^ 
and  calls  for  great  care  and  watchfulness  ;  to  have 
recourse  then  to  evil  and  impertinent  books,  is  like 
inviting  the  devil  because  you  are  alone.  If  you 
Gould  read  ill  books  when  you  were  in  haste,  or  in 
a  hurry  of  other  matters,  it  would  do  you  much  less 
harm  than  to  read  them  because  your  time  hangs 
\ipon  your  hands.  So  that  that  season  which  you 
take  to  be  an  excuse  for  such  reading,  is  a  stronger 
argument  against  it ;  because  evil  thoughts  and  vain 
ri'jbjects  have  twice  the  effect,  and  make  double 
impressions,  when  they  are  admitted  at  times  of 
leisure  and  idleness.  Consider  again,  to  what  a 
miserable  unchristian  state  you  are  reduced,  when 
you  are  forced  to  have  recourse  to  foolish  books  to 
get  rid  of  your  time.  Your  fortune,  perhaps,  has 
removed  you  from  the  necessity  of  labouring  for 
your  bread  ;  you  have  been  politely  educated  in 
softness  ;  you  have  no  trade  or  employment  to  take 
jap  your  time  ;  and  so  are  left  to  be  devoured  by 
corrupt  passions  and  pleasures.  Whilst  poor  peo- 
ple are  at  hard  labour  ;  whilst  your  servants  are 
drudging  in  the  meanest  offices  of  life  ;  you,  op- 
pressed with  idleness  and  indulgence,  are  relieving 
yourself  with  foolish  and  impertinent  books,  feed- 
ing and  delighting  a  disordered  mind  with  romantic 
nonsense,  and  poetic  follies.  If  this  be  the  effect  of 
riches  and  fortune,  only  to  expose  people  to  the 
power  of  disordered  passions,  and  give  them  time 
to  corrupt  their  hearts  with  madness  and  folly,  well 
might  our  blessed  Lord  say,  Wo  unto  you  that  are^ 
rich  ! 

When  you  see  a  poor  creature  druds^ing  in  the 
meanest  offices  of  life,  and  glad  of  the  dirtiest  work 
.to  get  his  bread,  you  are  apt  to  look  upon  him  as  a 
miserable  wretch;  it  raises  a  mixture  of  pity  and 
contempt  in  you  ;  and  you  hardly  know  whether 
you  pity  or  disregard  him  most.     But  reniembci. 


Ui'ON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  23^ 

lt\at  every  time  you  see  such  a  person,  you  see  a. 
more  reasonable  creature  than  yourself,  and  one  . 
that  is  much  more  nobly  employed  than  you  are. 
He  is  acting  conformably  to  the  state  of  human  life, 
and  bearing  a  hard  part  with  patience  ;  he  is  doin^ 
a  Avork,  which,  mean  as  it  is,  will  be  looked  upon 
as  done  unto  the  Lord  ;  whilst  you,  idling  in  soft- 
ness and  pleasures,  are  unable  to  bear  your  time, 
unless  it  be  stolen  away  from  you  by  foolish,  cor- 
rupt, and  unedifying  books.  « 

Fancy  that  you  saw  a  patient  Christian,  old,  bro^ 
ken,  and  crooked,  with  carrying  burdens  all  his 
life  :  fancy  that  you  saw  another  Christian  lolling 
in  state  and  softness,  and  making  every  day  a  day 
of  vanity  and  impertinence,  of  foolish  rcadinG:s,  and 
vain  imaginations;  which  of  them  do  you  think  is 
most  likely  to  die  into  the  hands  of  good  angels, 
and  be  carried  into  ^Vbraham's  bosom. 

But  after  all,  what  a  vain  imagination  is  it  to 
think  that  you  have  any  such  thing  as  spare  time. 
Is  there  any  time  for  which  you  are  not  accountable 
to  God  ?  Is  there  any  time  which  God  has  so  left 
to  your  own  disposal,  that  you  may  sacrifice  it  to 
the  indulgence  of  vain  tempers,  and  the  corruption 
of  your  heart  ?  You  can  no  more  show  this  than 
you  can  show,  that  all  your  time  is  your  own.  To 
talk  therefore  of  spare  time,  is  to  talk  of  something 
that  never  did,  nor  never  will,  he-ong  to  any  Chris- 
tian. You  may  have  a  spare  time  from  this  or  that 
labour  or  necessity  ;  vou  may  abate  or  change  any 
particular  exercise  ;  3  ou  may  leave  oft'  this  or  that 
way;  you  may  take  this  or  that  refreshment;  you 
have  all  these  spare  times  from  particular  actions, 
but  you  have  no  spare  time  that  releases  you  from 
the  laws  of  Christianity,  or  that  leaves  you  at  liberty 
not  to  act  by  the  principles  of  relis^ion  and  piety. 

You  have  a  spare  time  to  recreate  and  refresh 
yourself,  but  this  time  is  to  be  governed  by  the 
same  principles  of  relisrious  wisdom,  as  the  time 

20* 


234  A    PRACTICAi.    TREATISiE 

that  is  spent  in  cares  and  labours.  For  your  rev-:r6* 
ations  and  pleasures  are  only  lawful,  so  for  as  tliey 
are  directed  by  such  wisdom  and  piety  as  is  to 
direct  your  cares  and  labours.  If  therefore  the  pro- 
vidence of  God  has  placed  you  above  the  necessity 
of  labouring  for  your  livelihood,  you  must  not  think 
that  you  have  so  much  spare  time  to  spend  as  you 
please,  but  that  you  are  as  certainly  called  to  some 
other  labour,  as  others  are  called  to  labour  for  their 
bread.  Great  pan  of  the  world  is  doomed  to  labour 
and  slavery  ;  they  have  it  not  in  their  power  to 
choose  any  other  way  of  life,  and  their  labour  is^ 
therefore,  an  acceptable  service  to  God,  because  it 
is  such  as  their  state  requires.  Happy  you,  there- 
fore, if  you  knew  your  happiness,  who  have  it  in 
your  power  to  be  always  doing  the  best  things,  who, 
free  from  labour  and  hardships,  are  at  liberty  to 
choose  the  best  ways  of  life,  to  study  all  the  arts  of 
self-improvement,  to  practise  all  the  w^ays  of  doing 
^ood,  and  to  spend  your  time  in  all  the  noblest 
instances  of  piety,  humility,  charitj^,  and  devotion  t 
Bless  God,  therefore,  not  because  you  hav^e  spare 
*ime,  for  that  you  have  none  ;  but  that  you  have 
spare  time  to  employ  in  the  best  ways  that  you  caa 
find  ;  that  whilst  others  are  opprest  with  burdens, 
and  worn  out  in  slavery,  you  have  time,  and  leisure,, 
and  retirement,  to  think  and  meditate  upon  the 
greatest  and  best  of  things,  to  enlighten  your  mind, 
10  correct  the  disorders  of  your  heart,  to  study  the 
laws  of  God,  to  contemplate  the  wonders  of  his 
providence,  to  convince  yourself  of  the  vanity  and 
folly  of  the  world,  and  to  comfort  and  deli.2;ht  your 
^oul  with  those  great  and  glorious  things  which; 
God  has  prepared  for  those  that  love  him.  This  is 
the  happiness  of  being  free  from  labour  and  want  ; 
not  to  have  spare  time  to  squander  away  in  vanity 
and  impertinence,  but  to  have  spare  time  to  spend 
i^  the  study  of  wisdom,  in  the  exercise  of  devotion,. 
hi  the  practice  of  piety,  in  all  the  ways  and  meari& 


U5*QN    CHRISTIAN"    fEHFECTIOri*  23  ■> 

Qi  doing  good,  and  exalting  our  souls  to  a  state  of 
Christian  perfection. 

It  is  a  doctrine  of  Scripture,  and  highly  agreeable 
to  reason,   That  unto   whomsoever  much  is  given^  of 
him   shttll  much  be  required*     Consider,  therefore, 
that  a  life  of  leisure,  and  freedom  from  want  and 
hardship,  is  as   much  as  can  well  be  given  you  in 
this  world,  as  it  is  giving   you  an  opportunity  of 
living  wholly  unto  God,  and  making  all  the  partvS 
of  your  life  useful  to  the  best  purposes.     As  sure 
therefore  as  it  is  a  state  that  has  so  many  advan- 
tages, that  furnishes  joii  with  so   many  means  of 
bemg  eminent  in  piety,  so  sure  is  it,  that  it  is  a  state 
from  which   God  expects   fruits  that  are  worthy 
of  it.     Had  it  been  your  lot  to  labour  iri  a  mine,  or 
serve  under  some   cruel   master,   you  must    have 
served  as  unto  God,  and  in  so  doing,  you  had  fin- 
ished the  work  which  God  had  given  you.     But  as 
you  are  free  from  all  these  states  of  life,  you  must 
look  upon  yourself  as  God's  servant,  as  called  to 
choose  that  way  of  labouring  and  spending  your 
time,  which  may  most   promote  that  which   God 
desires  to  be  most  promoted.     God  has  given  you 
liberty  to  choose,  but  it  is  only  that  you  may  have 
the  blessedness  of  choosing  the  best  ways  of  spen- 
ding your   time.     Though   therefore  you   are    at 
liberty  from  servile  and  mean  labour,  yet  you  are 
under  a  necessity  of  labouring  in  all  good  work% 
and  making  all  your  time,  and  fortune,  and  al>ili- 
ties,  serviceable  to  the  best  ends  of  life.     You  have 
no  more  time  that  is  your  own,  than  he  has  that  is. 
to  live  by  constant  labour  ;  the  only  ditTerence  be- 
twixt  you  and  him  is  this,  th;\t  he  is  to  be  diligent 
in  a  poor  slavish  labour,  that  oppresses  the  body, 
and  dulls  and  dejects  the  mind  ;   but  you  in   a  ser- 
vice that  is  perfect  freedom^  that  renders  your  body  a 
fit  temple  for  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  fills  your  roul  with 
such  light,  and  peace,  and  joy,  as  is  not  to  be  foui^i 
in  any  other  way  of  life 


23t:J  A    PRACTICAL   TREATISE 

Do  you  think  that  a  poor  slave  would  displease 
God   by  refusing  to  act  in  that  painftd  drudgery 
that  is  fallen  to  his  share  ?  And  do  yon  think  that 
God  will  not  be  more  displeased  with  you,  if  you 
refuse  to  act  your  full  part  in  the  best  of  labours, 
or  neglect  that  happy  joyful  business  of  doing  good, 
which   your  state  of  life  has  called  you  to  ?  Is  it 
expected  that  poor  people  should  make  a  right  u:>e 
of  their  condition,  and  turn  all  their  labour  into  a 
service  unto  God  ?  And  can  you  think  that  you  ai^ 
not  obliged   to  make  the  proper  improvement  of 
your  condition,  and  turn  all  your  rest,  and  ease^  and 
freedom  from  labour,  into  a  service  unto  God  ?  'I'ell 
me,  therefore,  no  more  that  you  indulge  yourself  in 
idle  amusements,  in  vain,  corrupt,  and  unedifying 
books,  because  you  have  spare  time  ;  for  it  is   abso- 
lutely false  to  sa}^  that  you  have  any  such  thing  ;  k 
is  cdso  saying,  that  because  God  has  given  you  spare 
time  from  servile  labour,  that  you  may  choose  the 
b?st  ways  of  life,  devote  yourself  to  the  most  divine 
exercisep.,  and  become  eminent  and  exemplary  id 
all  the  instances  of  a  holy  and  heavenly  life  ;  there- 
fore you  presume  to  throw  it  away  in  idleness  and 
impertinence* 


CHAP.  XL 

J^ farther  Consideration  of  that  Purity  and  Hol'mcis 
of  Conversation^  to  which  the  Necessity  of  divme 
Grace  calleth  all  Christians  ;  zuherein  is  shozon, 
that  the  Entertainment  of  the  StaQ;e  is  a  corrupt 
and  sinful  Entertainment^  contrary  to  the  ichoU 
Nature  of  Christian  Piety^  and  cotistantly  to  be 
avoided  by  all  sincere  Christians, 

I  have  shown  in  the  foregoing  chapter,  that  the 
reading  of  plays^  or  any  other  books  of  that  kind^ 
is    a    dangerous   and    ginful    entertainment,  that 


tJPON"    GMRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  ^37 

corrupts  our  hearts,  and  separates  the  Holy  Spirit 
from  us.  You  will  now,  perhaps,  ask  me,  if  it  is 
imlawful  for  a  Christian  to  go  to^  the  play-house  ; 
1  answer,  that  it  is  absolutely  unlawful.  As  unlaw- 
ful as  for  a  Christian  to  be  a  drunkard^  or  a  glutinn^ 
or  to  curse  and  srcear.  This,  I  think,  after  what 
has  been  above  observed,  will  be  easily  proved. 

For  let  us  resume  the  doctrine  of  the  apostle  ;  we 
are  absolutely  forbid  all  cormpt  communkatwn^  and 
for  this  important  reason,  because  it  brieves  and 
separates  the  Holy  Spirit  from  us.  It  is  unlawful, 
therefore,  to  have  any  corrupt  commnmcaiion  of  our 
own  ?  And  can  we  think  it  laieful  to  go  to  places 
set  apart  for  that  purpose  ?  To  give  our  money,  and 
hire  persons  to  corrupt  our  hearts  with  ill  discour- 
ses, and  inflaipe  all  the  disorderly  passions  of  our 
nature  ?  We  have  the  authority  of  Scripture  to 
affirm,  that  evil  communication  corrupts  good  man- 
lier s^  and  that  unedifying  disconrses  grieve  the  Holy 
Spirit.  Now  the  thii-d  commandment  is  not  more 
plain  and  express  a,s:ainst  swearings  than  this  doc^ 
trine  is  p!ain  and  positive  against  going  to  {he  play- 
house. If  you  should  see  a  person  that  acknow- 
ledges the  third  commandment  to  be  a  divine  pro- 
hibition against  sicearing^,  yet  going  to  a  house^  and 
giving  his  money  to  persons,  who  were  there  met, 
to  cu7'se  and  srvcar  in  fine  lansfuage,  and  invent 
musical  oaths  and  iraprecations^  would  you  not  th^"nk 
him  mad  in  the  hia:hest  degree  ?  Nov/  consider, 
whether  (here  be  a  less  degree  of  madness  in  going 
io  the  play-house.  You  own  that  God  has  called 
you  to  a  great  purity  of  conversation,  that  you  are 
forbid  all  foolish  discourse^  and  filthy  jestings^  o.^ 
CX]:)ressly  as  you  are  forhid  swearing  ;  that  you  ar*- 
to  let  no  corrupt  communication  proceed  out  of  your 
^onth,  }>ui  such  as  is  good  for  the  use  of  edifying  ; 
and  yet  you  go  to  tlie  house  set  apart  for  corrupt 
p^ommunications  ;  you  hire  person^  to  entertain  you 
wiib  all  manner  nf  rihiddru-^profanenrsr.  r^??/,  aad 


238  A   PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

impurity  of  discourse  ;  who  arc  to  present  you  with- 
vile  thouglits  and    lewd  irra^^inations^   in  fine    lan- 
guage, and  to  make  wicked,  vain,  and  iuipure  dis- 
course  mere  lively  and  atfecting  than  you   could 
possibly  Ravf^  it  in  any  ill  company.     Now  is  not 
this  sinning  V.  uh  as  high  a  h"\nc!,  and  as  grossly 
©llending  against  the  plain  doctrines  of  Scripture, 
as  if  you  was  to  rrive  your  money  to  be  entertained 
with  musical  oaths  and  curses  ?  You  might  reason- 
ably think  that  woman  very  ridiculous  in  her  piety 
that  durst  not  swear  herself,  but  should,  neverthe- 
less, frequent  places  to  hear  oaths.     But  you  may 
as  justly  think  her  very  ridiculous  in  her  modesty, 
who,  though  she  dare  not  say,  or  look,  or  do  an  im- 
modest thing  herself,  shall  yet  give  her  money  to  see 
women  forget  the  modesty  of  their  s€x,  and  talk  im- 
prudently in  a  public  play-house.     If  the  play-house 
was  filled  with  rakes  and  ill  women,  there  would  be 
nothing  to  be  wondered  at  in  such  an  assembly ;  for 
3uch  persons  to  be  delighted  with  such  entertain- 
ments, is  as  natural  as  for  any  animal  to  delight  in 
its  proper  element.     But  for  persons  who  profess 
purity  and  holiness,  who  would  not  be  suspected  of 
immodesty^   or  corrupt  communication.,  for  them    to 
come  under  the  roof  of  a  house  devoted  to  such  ill 
purposes,  and  be  pleased  spectators  of  such  actions 
and  discourses,  as  are  the  pleasure  of  the   most 
abandoned  persons,  for  them  to  give  their  money 
to  be  thus  entertained,  is  such  a  contradiction  to  all 
piety  and  common  sense  as  cannot  be  sutliciently 
exposed. 

Again  ;  When  you  see  the  players  acting  with 
life  and  spirit,  men  and  women  equally  bold  in  all 
instances  of  profaneness^  passion^  and  immodesty^  I 
dare  say  you  never  suspect  any  of  them  to  be  per- 
sons of  Christian  piety.  You  cannot,  even  in  your 
imagination,  join  piety  to  such  manners,  and  such  a 
way  of  life.  Your  mind  will  no  more  allow  you  to 
join  piety  with  the  behaviour  of  the  stage^than  it 


U'i>ON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  239 

will  allow  you  to  think  two  and  two  to  be  ten.    And 
perhaps  y(^  had  rather  sec  your  son  chained  to  a 
galley,  or  your  daughter  driving' a  plow,  than  get- 
ting their  bread  on  the  stage,  by  administering  in  so 
scandalous  a  manner  to  the  vices  and  corrupt  plea- 
sures of  the  world.     Let  this  therefore  be  another 
argument  to    prove  the  absolute    unlawfulness    of 
going  to  the  play.     For  consider  with  yourself;  is 
the  lousiness  ot"  players  so  contrary  to  piety,  so  in- 
consistent  with  the  spirit    and   temper  of  a  true 
Christian,  that  it  is  next  to  a  contradiction  to  sup- 
pose them  united  ?  How  then  can  yoa  take  your- 
self to  be   innocent^  who  delight  in  their  sins,  and 
liire  them  to  commit  them  ?  You  may  make  your- 
self a  partaker  of  other  men's  sins,  .by  negligence, 
and  for  want  of  reproving  them  ;  but  certainly  if 
you  stand  by,  and  assist  men  in  their  evil  actions,  if 
you  make  their  vices  your  pleasure  and  entertain- 
ment, and  pay  your  money  to  be  so  entertained, 
you  make  yourself  a  partaker  of  their  sins  in  a  very 
high  degree.     And,  consequently,  it  must  be  as  un- 
lawful to  go  to  a  play  as  it  is  unlawful  to  approve, 
encourage,  assist,  and  reward  a  mam  for  renouncing 
a  Christian  life.     Let  therefore  every  maw  or  wo- 
man that  goes  to  a  play  ask  themselves  this  ques- 
tion, Whether  it  suits  with  then*  religion  to  act  the 
parts  that  are  there   acted  ?  Perhaps  they  would 
think  this  as  inconsistent  with  that  degree  of  piety 
that  they  profess,  as  to  do  the  vilest  things.     But 
let  them  consider,  that  it  must  be  a  wicked  and  un- 
lawful pleasure  to  delight  in  any  thing  that  they 
dare  not  do  themselves.     Let  them  also  consider, 
that  they  oxe  really  acting:  those    indecencies    and 
impieties  themselves,  which  they  think  is  the  par- 
ticular guilt  of  the  players.    For  a  person  may  very 
justly  be  said  to  do  that  ^u'/ji^e'/"  which  he  pays  for 
the  doing,  and  which  is  done  for  his  pleasure.    You 
must  therefore,   if  vou  would  be   consistent   with 
yourself,  as  much  abhor  the  thoughts  of  being  at  a 


i^40  A   rnACTlCAL    TR-EATISte 

jylay^  as  of  being  p,  player  yourself ;  for  to  think 
ihat  you  must  forbear  the  one,  and  not  t^^c  other,  is 
^as  absurd,  as  to  suppose,  that  you  must  l)e  tempe- 
rate yourself;  but  may  assist,  encourage,  and  reward 
other  people  for  their  intemperance.  The  business 
of  a  player  is  profane,  wicked,  lewd,  and  immodest ; 
-to  be  anyway  therefore  approving,  assisting,  or 
encouraging  him  in  such  a  way  of  life,  is  as  evi- 
dently sinful,  as  it  is  sinful  to  assist  and  encourage 
a  man  in  stealings  or  any  other  wickedness. 

To  proceed  :  When  1  consider  churches^-  and  the 
matter  of  divine  service^  that  it  consists  of  holy 
readings,  prayers,  and  exhortation  to  piety,  there  is 
reason  to  think,  that  the  house  of  God  is  a  natural 
means  of  promoting  piety  and  religion,  and  render- 
ing men  devout  and  sensible  of  their  duty  to  God. 
The  very  nature  of  divine  assemblies  thus  carried 
on,  has  this  direct  tendency.  I  ask  you,  whether 
this  is  not  very  plain,  that  churches  thus  emploj^ed 
should  have  this  effect  ? 

Consider  therefore  the  play-house^  and  the  matter 
of  the  entertainment  there,  as  it  consists  of  love-in- 
tricriies^  blaspheraous  passions,  profane  discourses^ 
hwd  descriptions,  filthy  jtsls,  and  all  the  most  extra- 
vagant rant  of  wanton,  vile,  profligate  persons  of 
both  sexes,  heating  and  inflaming  one  another  with 
all  the  zoantonness  of  address,  the  immodesty  of  mo- 
tion, and  lezvdficss  of  thought,  that  wit  can  invent ; 
consider,  I  say,  whether  it  be  not  plain,  that  a  house 
so  employed,  is  as  certainly  serving  the  cause  of 
immorality  and  vice,  as  the  house  of  God  is  serving 
the  cause  o[ piety  ?  For  what  is  there  in  our  church 
service,  that  shows  it  to  be  useful  to  piety  and  holi- 
ness ;  what  is  there  in  divine  worship  to  correct  and 
ftmend  the  heart,  but  what  is  directly  oon'7-fi/*^  to  all 
that  is  doing  in  the  play-house  ?  So  tl-at  one  may 
w:;h  the  same  assurance  aflirm,  that  the  p'ay-house.^ 
not  only  when  some  very  profane  play  is  on  the 
stage,  but  in  its  daily  common  entcrtainmont,  is  as 


UPON    CHRrSTIAN    PEtirECTION.  241 

^^cr1.aInly  the  house  of  the  dcvil^  as  the  church  is  the 
house  of  God,  For  though  the  devil  he  not  pro- 
fessedly worshipped  by  hymns  directed  to  him,  yet 
most  that  is  there  sung  is  to  his  service  ;  he  is  ther(' 
vbpyed  and  phased  in  as  certain  a  manner  as  Cod  i-i 
worshipped  and  honoured  in  the  church-. 

You  must  easily  see,  that  this  charge  against  the 
play-house ^  is  not  the  effect  of  ixny  particular  temper^ 
or  weakness  of  mind  ;  that  it  is  not  an  uncerta'ui  con' 
jecture^  or  religious  zvhimsy^  but  is  a  judgment  found- 
ed as  plainiy  in  the  nature  and  reason  of  things,  as 
when  it  is  affirmed  that  the  house  of  God  is  of  ser- 
vice to  religion.  And  he  that  absolutely  condemns 
the  play-house^  as  wicked  and  corrupting,  proceeds 
upon  as  much  truth  and  certainty,  a^  he  that  abso- 
lutely commends  the  house  of  God,  as  holv,  and 
tending  to  promote  piety. 

When  therefore  any  one  pretends  to  vindicate  the 
-stage  to  you,  as  a  proper  entertainment  for  holy  and 
religious  persons,  you  ought  to  reject  the  attem])t 
with  as  much  abhorrence,  as  if  he  should  offer  to 
r,how"  you,  that  our  church-service  was  rightly  form- 
ed for  those  persons  to  join  in,  who  are  devoted  to  the 
devil.  For  to  talk  of  the  lawfulness  and  usefulness 
of  the  stage^  is  fully  as  absurd,  as  -tontrary  to  the 
plain  nature  of  things,  as  to  talk  of  the  untazcfvlness 
end  mischief  of  the  service  of  tire  church.  He  there- 
fore that  tells  yoe,that  you  may  safely  go  to  the 
play-house^  as  an  innocent,  m^efu\  entertainment  of 
your  mind,  commits  the  same  offence  against  com- 
mon Jiense,  as  if  he  should  tell  you,  that  it  was 
dangerous  to  attend  at  divine  senice,  and  that  its 
prayers  and  hymns  W^ere  great  pollutions  of  the  mind. 

For  the  matter  and  manner  ^tsta^e-eniertainnunts 
is  as  undeniable  a  proof,  and  as  obvious  to  common 
«en.se,  tliat  the  house  belongs  to  the  devil,  and  is  the 
place  of  his  honour,  as  the  maiNT  and  manner  of 
■church-servici  proves  that  the  place  is  appropriated 


-42  A    PRACTICAL   TREATISE 

Observe,  ("hereforc,  that  as  you  do  not  want  the 
assistance  of  any  one,  to  show  you  the  usefulness 
and  advantage  of  divme  service,  because  the  thing  is 
plain,  and  speaks  for  itself:  so  neither,  on  the  other 
hahd,  need  you  any  one  to  show  you  the  unlawful- 
ness and  mischief  of  the  stage,  because  there  the 
thing  is  equally  plain,  and  speaks  for  itself  ;  so  that 
you  are  to  consider  yourself,  as  having  the  same 
assurance  that  the  stage  is  wicked,  and  to  be  abhor- 
red and  avoided  by  all  Christians,  as  you  have  that 
the  service  of  the  Church  is  holy,  and  to  be  sought 
after  by  all  lovers  of  holiness.  Consider,  therefore, 
that  your  conduct  with  relation  to  the  stage,  is  not 
a  matter  of  yiicety^  or  scrupulous  exactness^  but  that 
you  are  as  certain  that  you  do  wrong  in  as  noto- 
rious a  manner,  when  you  go  to  the  play-hmise^  as 
you  are  certain  that  you  do  right  when  you  go  to 
ehurch. 

Now  it  is  of  mighty  use  to  conceive  things  in  a 
right  manner,  and  to  see  them  as  they  are  in  their 
own  nature.  While  you  consider  the  play-house  as 
only  0.  place  of  diversion,  it  may  perhaps  give  no 
offence  to  your  mind  :  there  is  nothing  shocking  in 
the  thought  of  it  ;  but  if  you  would  lay  aside  this 
name  of  it  for  a  while,  and  consider  it  in  its  own 
nature  as  it  really  is,  you  would  find  that  you  are 
as  much  deceived,  if  you  consider  the  play-house  as 
only  a  place  of  diversion^  as  you  would  be,  if  you 
considered  the  house  of  God  only  as  a  place  of 
labour. 

When  therefore  you  are  tempted  to  go  to  a  play, 
cither  from  your  own  inclination,  or  the  desire  of 
a  friend,  fancy  that  you  v/as  asked  in  plain  terms  to 
go  to  the  place  of  the  deviPs  ahcde^  where  he  holds 
his  fithy  court  of  evil  spirits  :  that  you  was  asked 
to  join  in  an  entertainment,  where  he  was  at  the 
head  of  it,  where  the  whole  of  it  was  in  order  to  his 
glory,  that  men's  hearts  and  minds  might  be  sepa- 
rated from  God,  and  plunged  into  all  the  pollutions 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  243 

of  sin  and  brutality.  Fancy  that  you  are  pjoing  to  a 
place  that  as  certainly  belongs  to  the  devil,  as  the 
heathen  temples  of  old,  where  brutes  were  worship- 
ped, where  rvanton  hymns  were  sung  to  Venus^  and 
drunken  songs  to  the  god  of  zoine.  Fancy  that  you 
was  as  certainly  going  to  the  devil's  triumph,  as  if 
you  was  going  to  those  old  sports  where  people 
committed  murder,  and  oifered  Christians  to  be 
devoured  by  wild  beasts  for  the  diversion  of  spec- 
tators. Now  whilst  3^ou  consider  the  play-house  in 
this  view,  1  suppose  that  you  can  no  more  go  to  a 
p/rti/,  than  you  can  expressly  renounce  your  Chris- 
tianity. 

Consider  therefore  now,  that  you  have  not  been 
frighting  yourself  with  groundless  imaginations^  but 
that  what  you  have  here  fancied  of  the  play-house, 
is  as  strictly  true,  as  if  you  had  been  fancying,  that 
when  you  go  to  church,  you  go  into  the  house  of 
God,  where  the  heavenly  host  attend  upon  his  ser- 
vice, and  that  when  you  there  read  the  Scriptures, 
and  sing  holy  hymns,  you  join  with  the  choirs 
above,  and  do  God's  will  on  earth,  as  it  is  done  in 
heaven.  For  observe,  I  pray  you,  how  justly  that 
opinion  o^  the  play-house  is  founded.  For,  was  it  a 
joy  and  delight  to  the  devil  to  see  idols  zuorshipped, 
to  see  hymns  and  adorations  offered  up  to  impure 
and  filthy  deities  ?  Were  places  and  festivals,  ap- 
pointed for  such  ends,  justly  esteemed  places  and 
festivals  devoted  to  the  devil?  Now  give  the  reason 
why  all  this  was  justly  reckoned  a  service  to  the 
devil,  and.  you  will  give  as  good  a  reason  why  the 
play-house  is  to  be  esteemed  his  temple.  For,  what 
though  hymns  and  adorations  are  not  offered  to 
impure  and  filthy  deities,  yet  if  impurity  and  filthi- 
ncss  is  there  the  entertainment^  if  immodest  songs, 
profane  rant,  if  lust  and  passion  entertain  the  audi- 
ence, the  business  is  the  same,  and  the  assembly 
does  the  same  honour  to  the  devil,  though  they  are 


244'  A     PRACTICAL   TREATTSE 

not  gathered  together  in  the  name  of  some  hcatheri 
god. 

For  impurity  and  profaneness  in  the  worshippers 
of  the  true  God,  is  as  acceptable  a  service  to  the 
devil,  as  impurity  a-nd  profaneness  in  pny  idolators  ; 
and  perhaps  a  leiod  souff  in  an  assembly  of  Chris- 
tians gives  him  greater  delight,  than  if  it  had  been 
gung  in  a  congregation  of  heathens. 

If  therefore  we  may  justly  say,  that  a  hoitse  or 
fes rival  was  the  devilV,  because  he  was  delighted 
with  it.  because  what  was  there  done  was  an  accep- 
table service  to  him  ;  we  may  be  assured,  that  the 
play-house  is  as  really  the  house  of  the  devil,  as  any 
other  house  ever  wa&.  Nay,  it  is  reasonable  to  think, 
ihdit  the  play-houses  in  this  kingdom  are  a  greater 
pleasure  to  him,  than  any  temple  he  ever  had  in  the 
heaOien  zaorld.  For  as  it  is  a  greater  conquest  to 
make  the  disciples  of  Christ  delight  in  lewdness  and 
profaneness^  than  ignorant  heathens  ;  so  a  house, 
that  in  the  midst  of  Christian  churches,  trains  up 
Christians  in  lewdness  and  profaneness,  that  makes 
the  worshippers  of  Christ  flock  together  in  crowds, 
io  rejoice  in  an  entertainment  that  is  contrary  to 
the  Spirit  of  Christ,  as  hell  is  contrary  to  heaven  ;  a 
house  so  employed,  may  justly  be  reckoned  a  more 
delightful  habitation  of  the  devil,  than  any  temple 
of  the  heathen  world.  When  therefore  you  go  to 
the  play-house,  you  have  as  much  assurance  that 
you  go  to  the  devil's  peculiar  habitation,  that  you 
submit  to  his  designs,  and  rejoice  in  his  diversions, 
which  are  his  best  devices  against  Christianity,  you 
have  as  much  assurance  of  this,  as  that  they  who 
worshipped  filthy  deities,  were  in  reality  worship- 
pers of  the  devil. 

Again,  consider  those  old  sports  and  diversions 
where  Christians  were  sometimes  thrown  to  wild 
beasts;  consider  why  such  sports  might  well  be 
looked  upon  as  the  devil's  triumph.  1  suppose  you 
^ve  at  no  stand  with  yourself,  whether  you  should 


WfON    CHRISTIAN  PERFECTION.  245 

impute  such  entertainments  to  the  devil.  Consider, 
therefore,  why  you  should  not  as  readily  aiiow  the 
stage  to  be  his  entertainment. 

For  was  it  a  delight  to  the  devil  to  sec  heathens 
sporting  with  the  bodily  death  of  Christians  ?  And 
must  it  not  be  greater  delight  to  him,  to  see  Christians 
sporting  themselves    in   the  death   of  their  souls  ? 

The  heathens  could  only  kill  the  body,  and  sepa- 
rate it  from  the  soul ;  but  these  Christian  diversions 
murder  the  soul,  and  separate  it  from  God.  i  dare 
say  no  arguments  could  convince  tou,  that  it  was 
lawful  to  rejoice  at  those  sports,  which  wTre  thus 
defiled  with  human  blood  ;  but  then  pray  remember 
that  if  the  death  of  tlie  soul  be  as  great  a  cruelly  as 
the  death  of  the  body  ;  if  it  be  as  dreadful  for  a 
soul  to  be  separated  from  God,  as  to  be  separated 
from  the  body  ;  you  ought  to  think  it  as  entirely 
unlawful  to  enter  that  house  where  so  many  eternal 
lives  are  sacrificed,  or  ever  to  partake  of  those  diver- 
sions,which  separate  such numbersof  souls  fromGod. 

Hence  it  appears,  that  if,  instead  of  considering 
the  play-house  as  only  a  place  of  diversion,  you  will 
but  examine  what  materials  it  is  made  of,  if  you 
will  but  consider  the  nature  of  the  entertainment, 
and  what  is  there  doing,  you  will  find  it  as  wickecl 
a  place,  as  sinful  a  diversion,  and  as  truly  the  pecu- 
liar pleasure  and  triumph  of  the  devil,  as  any  wick- 
ed place  or  sinful  diversion  in  the  heathen  ivorld. 
When  therefore  you  are  asked  to  go  to  a  /?/«?/,  do 
not  think  that  you  are  asked  only  to  g©  to  a  diver- 
sion, but  be  assured  that  you  are  asked  to  yield  to 
the  devil,  to  go  over  to  his  party,  and  to  make  one 
of  his  congregation  ;  that  if  you  do  go,  you  have 
not  only  the  guilt  of  buying  so  much  vain  and  cor- 
rupt communication,  but  are  also  as  certainly  guilty 
of  going  to  the  devil's  house,  and  doing  him  the 
same  honour,  as  if  you  was  to  partake  of  some  hea- 
then festival. 

You  must  consider,  that  all  the  laughter  there  is 

••)  1  * 


246  '  A     PRACTICAL   TREATISE 

not  only  vain  and  foolish,  but  that  it  is  a  laughter 
amongst  devils,  that  you  are  upon  profane  ground^ 
and  hearing  music  in  the  very  porch  of  hell. 

Thus  it  is  in  the  reason  of  the  thing  ;  and  if  wc 
should  now  consider  the  state  oi  our  play-house,  ^dfi 
it  is  in  fact,  we  should  find  it  answering  all  these 
characters,  and  producing  effects  suitable  to  its 
nature  :  but  I  shall  forbear  this  consideration,  it 
being  as  unnecessary  to  tell  the  reader,  that  our 
play-house  is  in  fact  the  sink  of  corruption  and  de- 
bauchery ;  that  it  is  the  general  rendezvous  of  the 
most  profligate  persons  of  both  sexes  ;  that  it  cor- 
rupts the  air,  and  turns  the  adjacent  places  into 
public  nuisances  ;  this  is  as  unnecessary  as  to  tell 
him,  that  the  Exchange  is  a  place  of  merchandise. 

Now  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  this  is  not  the 
state  of  the  play-house,  through  any  accidental 
abuse^  as  any  innocent  or  good  thing  may  be  abu- 
sed ;  but  that  corruption  and  debauchery  are  the 
truly  natural  and  genuine  effects  of  the  stage-enter' 
iainment.  Let  not,  therefore,  any  one  say,  that  he 
is  not  answerable  for  those  vices  and  debaucheries 
which  are  occasioned  by  the  play-house',  for  so  far 
as  he  partakes  of  the  pleasure  of  the  stage,  and  is 
an  encourager  of  it,  so  far  he  is  chargeable  with 
those  disorders  which  necessarily  are  occasioned 
by  it. 

If  evil  arises  from  our  doing  our  duty,  or  our 
attendance  at  any  good  design,  we  are  not  to  be 
frighted  at  it ;  but  if  evil  arises  from  any  thing,  as 
its  natural  and  genuine  effect,  in  all  such  cases,  so 
far  as  we  contribute  to  the  cause,  so  far  we  make 
ourselves  guilty  of  the  effects.  So  that  all  who  any 
way  assist  the  play-house,  or  ever  encouraged  it  by 
iheir  presence,  make  themselves  chargeable,  in 
some  dee;ree,  with  all  the  evils  and  vices  which 
follow  from  it.  Since  therefore  it  cannot  be  doubted 
by  any  one,  whether  the  play-house  be  a  nursery  of 
«-'icc  and  debauchery,  since  the  evil  effects  it  has 


uroN  CHRISTIAN  PEnrECTiON.  247 

upon  people's  manners  is  as  visible  as  the  sun  at 
noon,  one  would  imagine  that  all  people  of  virtue 
and  modesty  should  not  only  avoid  it,  but  avoid  it 
with  the  utmost  abhorrence  ;  that  they  should  be 
so  far  from  entering  into  it,  that  they  should  detest 
the  very  sight  of  it.  For  what  a  contradiction  is  it 
to  common  sense  to  hear  a  woman  lamenting  the 
miserable  lewdness  and  debauchery  of  the  age,  the 
vicious  taste,  and  irregular  pleasures  of  the  world, 
and  at  the  same  time  dressing  herself  to  meet  the 
lewdest  part  of  the  world,  at  the  fountain-head  of 
all  lewdness,  and  making  herself  one  of  that  crowd 
where  every  abandoned  wretch  is  glad  to  be  pre- 
sent ?  She  may  fancy  that  she  hates  and  abomi- 
nates their  vices  ;  but  she  may  depend  upon  it,  that 
till  she  hates  and  abominates  the  place  of  vicious 
pleasures,  till  she  dare  not  come  near  an  entertain- 
ment which  is  the  cause  of  so  great  debauchery, 
and  the  pleasure  of  the  most  debauched  people  ; 
till  she  is  thus  disposed,  she  wants  the  truest  sign 
of  a  re:d"and-religious  abhorrence  of  the  vices  of 
the  age. 

For  to  wave  all  other  considerations,  I  would 
only  ask  her  a  question  or  two  on  the  single  article 
of  modesty.  What  is  modesty  ?  Is  it  a  little  me- 
chanical outside  behaviour,  that  goes  no  farther 
than  a  few  forms  and  modes  at  particular  times  and 
places  ?  Or  is  it  a  real  temper^  a  rational  disposi- 
tion of  the  heart,  that  is  founded  in  religion  7  Now 
if  modesty  is  only  a  mechanical  observance  of  a 
little  outside  behaviour,  then  I  can  easily  perceive 
how  a  modest  woman  may  frequent  ftlays  ;  there  is 
no  inconsistency  for  such  a  one  to  be  one  thing  in 
one  plac(^,  and  another  in  another  j^lace  ;  to  disdain 
an  immodest  convei-sation,  and  vc(,  at  the  same 
time,  relish  and  delight  in  immodest  and  impu- 
dent speeches  in  a  public  play-Jwvse,  But  if 
modesty  is  a  real  temper  and  disj.csition  of  the 
heart,   that  is  founded  in   the  principles  of   reli- 


248  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

gion  ;  then  I  confess  I  cannot  comprehend  how  a 
person  of  such  modesty  should  ever  come  twice 
into  a  play-house.  For  if  it  is  reason  and  religion 
that  has  inspired  her  with  a  modest  heart  ;  that 
makes  her  hate  and  abhor  every  word  or  look,  or 
hint,  in  conversation  that  has  the  appearance  of 
lewdness ;  that  makes  her  shun  the  company  of 
such  as  talk  with  too  much  freedom  ;  if  she  is  thus 
modest  in  common  life,  from  a  principle  of  religion, 
a  temper  of  heart  ;  is  it  possible  for  such  a  one  (I 
do  not  say  to  seek)  but  to  bear  with  the  immodesty 
and  impudence  of  the  stage  ?  For  must  not  immod- 
esty anxl  impudence,  must  not  loose  and  wanton  dis- 
course he  the  same  hateful  things,  and  give  the  same 
offence  to  a  modest  mind  in  one  place  as  in  another  ? 
And  must  not  that  piece,  v/hich  is  the  seat  of  im- 
modesty, where  men  and  women  are  trained  up  in 
lewdness  ;  where  almost  every  day  in  the  year  is  a 
day  devoted  to  the  foolish  representations  of  rant, 
lust,  and  passion  ;  must  not  such  a  place  of  all 
others  be  the  most  odious  to  a  mind  that  is  truly 
modest  upon  principles  of  reason  and  reli2:ion  ?  One 
would  suppose  that  such  a  person  should  as  much 
abominate  the  place  as  any  other  filthy  sight  ;  and 
be  as  much  offended  with  an  invitation  to  it,  as  if 
she  was  invited  to  see  an  immodest  picture.  For 
the  representations  of  the  stage,  the  inflamed  pas- 
sions of  lovers  there  described,  are  as  gross  an  of- 
fence to  the  ear  as  any  representation  that  can 
offend  the  eye. 

It  ought  not  to  be  concluded,  that  because  I  af- 
firm the  play-house  to  be  an  entertainment  contrary 
to  modesty,  that  therefore  I  accuse  all  people  as 
void  of  modesty  who  ever  go  to  it.  I  might  affirm, 
that  transubstantiation  is  contrary  to  all  sense  and 
reason  ;but  then  it  would  be  a  wrong  conclusion  to 
say,  that  I  affirmed,  that  all  who  believe  it  are  void 
of  all  sense  an^  reason.     Now   as  prejudices^  the 


VPOJ?   CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  243 

force  of  educat^on^  the  authority  of  nuinhcrs^  the 
ivay  of  the  world,  the  example  of  great  namcs^  m-ay 
make  people  believe :  so  the  same  causes  may  make 
people  act  agjunst  all  sense  and  reftsotiy  and  be 
guniy  of  practices  which  no  more  suit  with  the  pu- 
rity of  their  religion,  thai;  Imnstibdc.ntictition  agrees 
Vfith  cc.nmon  sense* 

To  proceed  :  J  once  heard  a  young  lady  thus  ex- 
cusing herself  for  going  to  the  play-lwusi  ;  That  she 
went  but  seidom,  and  then  in  company  of  her  mo- 
ther and  her  aunt  r  that  the^^  alwaj^s  knew  their />/«^ 
before-hand,  and  never  went  on  the  sacrament  week* 
And  what  harm  praj^,  says  she,  can  there  be  in  this  ? 
It  breaks  in  upon  no  rules  of  m^^  life  ;  I  neglect  no 
part  of  my  daty ;  I  go  to  church,  and  perform  the 
same  devotions  at  home  as  on  other  days.  It 
ought  to  be  observed,  that  this  excuse  can  only  be 
allowed  where  the  diversion  itself  is  innocent  ;  it 
must  therefore  be  first  considered  what  the  enter- 
tainment is  in  itself,  whether  it  be  suitable  to  the 
spirit  and  temper  of  religion  ;  for  if  it  is  right  and 
proper  in  itself,  it  needs  no  excuse  ;  but  if  it  be 
wrong,  and  dangerous  to  religion,  we  are  not  to  use 
it  cautiously^  but  avoid  it  constantly. 

Secondly  ;  It  is  no  proof  of  the  innocency  of  a 
thing,  that  it  does  not  interfere  with  our  hours  of 
dnty^  nor  break  the  regularity  of  our  lives  ;  for  very 
wicked  ways  of  spending  time  may  yet  be  consist- 
ent with  a  regular  distribution  of  our  hours.  She 
must  therefore  consider,  not  only  whether  such  a 
diversion  hinders  the  regularity  ofher  life,  or  breaks 
in  upon  her  devo'ions,  public  or  private  ;  but  whe- 
ther it  hinders,  or  any  way  affects,  that  spirit  and 
temper  which  all  her  devotions  aspire  after.  Is  it 
conformable  to  that  heavenly  affection,  that  love  of 
God,  that  purity  of  heart,  that  wisdom  of  mind,  that 
perfection  of  holiness,  that  ronf^mpt  of  the  worlds 
that  watchfulness  and  self-denial,  that  humility 
and  fear  of  sin  ?  Is  it  conformable  to  these  graccv^, 


250  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

wbich  are  to  be  the  daily  su'bject  of  all  her  prayers? 
This  is  the  only  way  for  her  to  know  the  innocenty 
of  going  to  a  play.  If  what  she  there  hears  and 
sees  has  no  conlranchf  to  any  c^races  or  virtues 
which  she  prays  for;  if  all  that  there  passes  be  fit 
for  the  purity  and  pieiy  of  one  that  is  led  by  the 
Spirit  of  Christ,  and  is  working  out  her  salvation 
7ciihfear  and  tremblma:  ;  if  the  stage  be  an  enter- 
tainment that  may  be  thought  according  to  the  will 
of  God,  then  she  disposes  of  an  hour  very  inno- 
cently, though  her  mother,  or  her  aunt,  were  not 
with  her.  But  if  the  contrary  to  all  this  be  true  ; 
if  most  of  what  she  there  hears  and  sees  be  as  con- 
trary to  the  piety  and  purity  of  Christianity,  as 
feasting  is  contrary  to  fasting  ;  if  the  house  which 
she  supports  by  her  money,  and  encourages  by  her 
presence,  be  a  notorious  means  of  corruption,  visi- 
bly carrying  on  the  cause  of  vi^e  and  debauchery  ; 
she  must  not  think  herself  excused  for  being  with 
her  mother. 

Thirdly  ;  The  same  person  would,  perhaps,  think 
it  strange  to  hear  one  of  her  virtuous  acquaintances 
giving  the  like  excuse  for  going  now  and  then  to  a 
masquerade* 

Now  this  diversion  is  new  in  our  country,  and 
therefore  people  judge  of  it  in  a  manner  that  they 
should,  because  they  are  not  blinded  by  use  and  cus- 
tom ;  but  let  any  one  give  but  the  true  reasons  why 
a  person  of  virtue  and  piety  should  not  give  into 
such  entertainments,  and  the  same  reasons  will 
show,  that  a  person  of  a  strict  piety  should  keep  at 
as  great  a  distance  from  the  play-house.  For  the 
entertainment  of  the  stage  is  as  directly  opposite  to 
the  puritj^  of  religion,  and  is  as  much  the  natural 
means  of  corruption,  and  serves  all  bad  ends  in  as 
high  a  manner  as  masquerades  ;  they  only  differ  as 
bad  things  of  the  same  kind  may  diller  from  one  ano- 
ther. So  that  if  the  evil  use,  the  ill  consequence 
of  masquerades^  be  a  sufficient  rcjison  to  deter  peo:* 


UPON   CHRISTIAN   PERFECTION.  251 

pie  of  piety  from  partaking  of  them,  the  same  evil 
use  and  ill  consequence  of  the  stage  ought  to  keep 
all  people  of  virtue  from  it.  If  people  will  consult 
their  temper  only,  they  may  take  the  entertainment 
of  one,  and  condemn  the  other  as  following  the 
same  guide  5  they  may  abhor  intemperance^  and  in- 
dulge malice  ;  but  if  they  will  consult  religion,  and 
make  that  the  ground  of  their  opinions,  the3"  would 
fmd  as  strong  reasons  for  a  constant  abhorrence  of 
the  stage,  as  of  masquerades* 

Farther  ;  She  that  is  for  going  only  to  the  playhouse 
now  and  then  with  this  care  and  discretion,  does  not 
seem  to^have  enough  considered  the  matter,  or  to  act 
by  reason  ;  for  if  the  stage  be  an  innocent  and  proper 
entertainment ;  if,  in  its  own  nature,  it  be  as  harm- 
less and  useful  as  walkings  ridings  takirig  the  air, 
or  conversing  with  virtuous  people  ;  if  this  be  the 
nature  of  it,  then  there  is  no  need  of  this  care  and 
abstinence  ;  a  virtuous  lady  need  not  excuse  herself 
that  she  goes  but  very  seldom.  But  if  it  be  the 
very  reverse  of  all  this ;  if  it  be  that  fountain  of  cor- 
ruption and  debauchery  w  hich  has  been  observed  ; 
then  to  go  to  it  at  any  time  admits  of  no  excuse,  but 
is  as  absurd,  as  contrary  to  reason  and  religion, 
as  to  do  any  other  ill  thing  with  the  same  care  and 
discretion.  If  you  should  hear  a  person  excusing 
her  use  of  paint  in  this  manner  ; — That  truly  she 
painted  but  very  seldom  ;  that  she  always  said  her 
prayers  first  :  that  she  never  used  it  on  Sundays,  or 
the  week  before  the  communion  ;  would  you  not 
pity  such  a  mixture  of  religion  and  weakness  ? 
Would  you  not  desire  her  to  use  her  reason,  and 
cither  allow  painting  to  be  an  innocent  ornament, 
suitable  to  the  sobriety  and  humility  of  a  Christian, 
or  else  to  think  it  as  unlawful  at  one  time  as  ano- 
ther ?  Would  you  not  think  it  strange  that  she 
should  condemn  painting  as  odious  and  sinful  ;  and 
yet  think  that  the  regularity  of  her  life,  the  exact- 
ness of  her  devotions,  and  her  observance  of  religion 


252  A  TRACTICAL    TREATISE 

might  make  it  lawful  for  her  to  paint  nozv  and  then  f 
I  do  not  doubt  but  you  plainly  see  the  weakness  and 
folly  of  such  a  pretence  for  paintings  under  such 
rules  at  certain  times.  And  if  j^ou  would  but  as 
impartially  consider  your  pretences  for  going  some- 
times to  the  play-house,  you  would  certainly  find 
them  equally  weak  and  unreasonable  :  for  painting 
may,  with  more  reason,  be  reckoned  an  innocent  or* 
namentj  than  the  play-house  an  innocent  diversion  ; 
and  it  supposes  a  greater  vanity  of  mind,  a  more 
perverted  judgment,  and  a  deeper  corruption  of 
heart,  to  seek  the  diversions  of  thie  stage,  than  to 
rake  the  pleasure  of  a  borrowed  colour. 

1  know  you  are  offended  at  this  comparison,  be» 
•cause  you  judge  by  your  temper  and  prejudices,  and 
do  not  consider  the  things  as  they  are  in  themselves 
by  the  pure  light  of  reason  and  religion.     Painting 
has  not  been  the  way  of  your  family  ;  it  is  suppo- 
sed to  be  the  practice  but  of  very  few  ;  and  those 
who  use  it  endeavour  to  conceal  it ;  this  makes  you 
readily  condemn  it  :  on  the  contrary,  your  mother 
and  your  aunt  carry  you  to  a  play ;  you  see  virtuous 
people  there,  and   the  same  persons  that  fill  our 
churches ;  so  that  your  temper  is  as  much  engaged 
to  think  it  lawful  to  go  sometimes  to  a  play;  as  it  is 
engaged  to  think  the  use  of  paitit  odious  and  sinful* 
Lay  aside  therefore  these  prejudices  for  awhile  ; 
fancy  that  you  had  been  trained  up  in  some  t^orner 
of  the  world  in  the  principles  of  Christianity,  and 
had  never  heard  either  of  the  play-house  or  paint* 
ing  ;  imagine  now  that  you  was  to  examine   the 
lawfulness  of  them  by  the  doctrines  of  Scripture  ; 
3^ou  would  first  desii^  to  be  told  the  nature  of  these 
things,  and  what  they  meant.    They  would  tell  you, 
that  painting  was  the  borrowing  of  colours   from 
art,  to  make  the  face  lopk  more   beautiful.     Now 
though   you   found  no   express   Icxt  of  Scripture 
against  j9a/n/in^,  you  will  find  that  it  was  expressly 
Against  tempers  ;rcquircd  in   Scripture  ;  you  would^ 


UPON    CHRISTIAN*    PERFECTION.  $53 

fti^crefore,  condemn  it,  as  proceeding  from  a  vanity 
of  mind,  a  fondness  of  beauty  ;  3''ou  would  sec  that 
the  harm  of  painting  consisted  in  this,  that  it  pro- 
<:eeded  from  a  temper  of  mind,  contrary  to  the  so- 
briety and  humility  of  a  Christian,  which  indeed  k 
harm  enough,  because  this  humility  and  iiobricty  ol" 
mind  is  as  essential  to  religion  as  charity  and  devo- 
tion. So  that  in  judging  according  to  Scripture, 
you  would  hold  it  as  unreasonable  to  paint  some- 
times, as  to  be  sometimes  malicious^  indcvout^  promU 
or  false. 

You  are  now  to  consider  the  stage  ;  you  are  to 
keep  close  to  Scripture,  and  fancy  that  you  yQ\. 
know  nothing  of  plays.  You  ask  therefore  first, 
what  the  stage  ov  play-house  is  ?  You  arc  told,  that 
it  is  a  place  where  all  sorts  of  people  meet,  to  be 
entertained  with  discourses,  actions,  and  represen- 
tations, which  are  recommended  t«  the  heart  by 
beautiful  scenes,  tke  splendor  of  lights,  and  the 
harmony  of  music.  You  are  told,  that  these  dis=- 
courses  are  the  inventions  of  men  of  wit  and  imagi- 
nation, which  describe  imaginary  intrigues  and 
scenes  of  love,  and  introduce  men  and  women  dis- 
coursing, raving,  and  acting  iu  all  the  wild  indecent 
transports  of  lust  a»d  passion.  You  are  told,  that 
the  diversion  partlj^  consists  of  lewd  and  profane 
songs  ;  sung  to  fine  music,  and  partly  of  extrava- 
gant dialogues  between  immodest  persons,  talking 
in  a  style  of  love  and  madness,  that  it  is  no  where 
else  to  be  found,  and  entertaining  the  Christian  au- 
dience with  all  the  violence  of  passion,  corruption 
of  heart,  wantonness  of  mind,  immodesty  of  thought, 
and  profane  jests,  that  the  wit  of  the  poet  is  able 
to  invent.  You  are  told,  that  the  players,,  men  and 
women,  are  trained  up  to  act  and  represent  all  the 
descriptions  of  lust  and  passion  in  the  liveliest  man* 
ner,  to  add  a  lewdness  of  action  to  lewd  speeches  > 
ihat  they  get  their  livelihood  by  cursing,  ^zccaring, 

22 


254  A   PnAGTICAL   TREATISE 

aiKl  ranting  for  three  hours  together  lo  an  assem* 
blj  of  Christians, 

Nowthougli  you  find  no  particular  text  of  Scrip- 
lure  condemning  the  stage^  or  tragedy^  or  comedy^ 
in  express  words  ;  yet  what  is  much  more  you  find 
that  such  entertainments  are  a  gross  contradiction 
to  the  whole  nature  of  religion.  They  are  not  con- 
trary to  this  or  that  particular  temper;  but  arc 
contrary  to  that  whole  turn  of  heart  and  mind 
which  religion  iiequires.  Painting  is  contrary  to 
humility^  and  therefore  is  always  to  be  avoided  as 
sinful.  But  the  entertainment  of  the  stage,  as  it 
consists  of  blasphemous  expressions,  tuzV/ced  speeches, 
siccaring^  cursing^  tind  profaning  the  name  of  God  ; 
it  abounds  with  impious  rant,  filthy  jests,  dis" 
iracted  passions,  gross  descriptions  of  lust^  and  tvan^ 
ton  songs^  is  a  contradiction  of  every  doctrine  that  our 
Saviour  and  his  apostles  have  taught  us.  So  that  to 
abhor  painting  at  all  times,  because  it  supposes  a 
vanity  of  mind,  and  is  contrary  to  humility,  and  yet 
think  there  is  a  lawful  time  to  go  to  the  play-house^ 
is  as  contrary  lo  common  sense,  as  if  a  man  should 
Jiold  that  it  was  lawful  sometimes  to  ofiend  against 
all  the  doctrines  of  religiow,  and  yet  always  unlaw- 
.ful  to  offend  against  any  one  doctrine  of  religion. 

If  therefore  you  was  to  come,  as  I  supposed,  from 
some  corner  of  the  world,  where  you  had  beea  used 
to  live  and  judge  by  the  rules  of  religion,  and  upon 
your  arrival  here,  had  been  told  \\h:ii  painting  and 
the  stage  was  ;  as  you  would  not  expect  to  see  per- 
sons oi  religious  humility  carrying  their  daughters  to 
paint-shops^  or  Inviting  their  pious  friends  to  go 
along  with  them  ;  so  much  less  would  you  expect 
to  hear,  that  devout^  pious^  and  modest  women  car- 
ried their  daughter^,  and  invited  their  virtuous 
friends  to  meet  them  at  the  play.  Least  of  all 
could  you  imagine,  that  there  were  any  people  too 
jpious  and  devout  to  indulge  the  vanity  o( paintings 


tVPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  255 

and  yet  not  devout,  or  ploiii^  enoui^h,  to  nhhor  the 
immodesty,  profancness,  ribaldry,  Immorality,  and 
blasphemy  of  the  stage* 

To  proceed  !  A  j)olite  writer  of  a   late  paper, 
thought  he  had  Ruflicicntly  ridiculed  a 
ceriam  lady's   pretensions  to    piety,     Spectator, 
when  speaking  of  her  closet^  he  says,         J^o,  79. 

Together  lie  her  pray cr-hook  and  painty 
At  once  <'  improve  the  sinner  and  ike  saint. 

Now  whence  comes  it,  that  this  writer  judges  so 
rightly,  and  speaks  the  truth  so  plainly  in  the  mat- 
ter of  painting  ?  Whence  comes  it,  that  the  gene- 
rality of  his  readers  think  his  observation  just,  and 
joins  with  him  in  it  ?  It  is  because  painting  is  not 
yet  an  acknowledged  practice,  but  is,  for  the  most 
part,  reckoned  a  shameful  instance  of  vanity.  Now 
as  w^e  are  not  prejudiced  in  favour  of  this  practice, 
and  have  no  excuses  to  make  for  our  own  share  in 
it  ;  so  we  judge  of  it  impartially,  and  immediatclv 
perceive  its  contrariety  to  a  religious  temper  and 
state  of  mind.  This  writer  saw  this  in  so  strong  a 
light,  that  he  does  not  scruple  to  suppose,  that 
paint  is  as  natural  and  proper  a  means  to  improve 
the  sinner  as  the  prayer-book  is  to  improve  the 
saint. 

I  should  therefore  hope,  that  it  need  not  be  im- 
puted to  any  sourness  of  temper,  religious  loeahiesf--, 
or  dulness  of  spirits,  if  a  clergyman  should  imagine, 
that  the  profanencss,  debauchery,  lewdness,  and 
blasphemy  of  the  stage^  is  as  natural  a  means  to  im- 
prove the  sinner,  as  a  bottle  of  paint ;  or  if  he  should 
venture  to  show  that  the  church  and  tlic  play-house 
are  as  ridiculous  a  contradiction,  and  do  no  more 
suit  with  the  same  person,  than  xYie  prayer-book  and 
pamt. 

Again  ;  suppose  you  were  told  that  the  holy 
(mgels  delight  in   the   repentance  and   devotion  of 


'^OS'^  A    PRACTICAL  TREATISE 

Christians  ;  that  they  attend  at  God's  altar,  and  re- 
joice in  the  prayers  and  praises  which  are  there 
offered  unto  God  :  I  imagine  yoti  could  easily  be- 
lieve it,  you  could  think  it  very  agreeable  to  the 
nature  of  such  good  beings,  to  see  fallen  spirits 
returning  unto  God.  Suppose  you  were  told  also, 
that  these  same  heavenly  beings  delighted  to  be 
with  men  in  their  drunkenness,  revellin^s,  and  debau- 
ahtrlcs^  and  were  as  much  pleased  with  their  vices? 
and  corruptions,  as  with  their  devotions,  you  would 
know  that  both  these  accounts  qauld  not  possibly 
be  true  ;  you  could  no  more  doubt  in  your  mind 
whether  good  angels  that  delight  in  the  conversion 
and  devotion  of  Christians,  do  also  delight  in  their 
vices  and  follies,  than  you  can  doubt  whether  the 
same  person  can  be  alive  and  dead  at  the  same 
lime.  You  would  be  sure,  that  in  proportion  as 
they  delight  in  the  piety  and  holiness  of  men,  the}*- 
must  necessarily,  in  the  same  degree,  abhor  and  dis- 
like their  vices  and  corruptions.  So  that  supposing 
the  matter  of  our  church-service,  the  excellency  of 
its  devotions  5  its  heavenly  petitions,  its  lofty 
hymns,  its  solemn  praises  of  the  most  high  God,  be 
such  a  glorious  service  as  invites  and  procures  the 
attendance  of  that  blessed  choir  ;  if  this  be  true,  I 
suppose  you  are  as  certain  as  you  can  be  of  the 
plainest  truth,  that  the  jiUhiness,  the  rant,  ribaldry^ 
profaneness,  and  impietif  of  the  stage,  must  be  the 
hatred  and  aversion  of  those  good  spirits.  Yon  are 
sure,  that  it  is  as  impossible  for  them  to  behold  the 
stage  with  pleasure,  as  to  look  upon  the  holy  altar 
with  abhorrence. 

Consider  awhile  on  this  matter,  and  think  how  it 
can  be  lawful  for  you  to  go  to  a  place,  where  if  a 
good  angel  was  to  look  with  pleasure,  it  would  cease 
to  be  good  ?  For  as  that  which  makes  angels  good, 
i^s  the  same  right  temper  which  makes  you  good ;  so 
the  same  tempers  which  would  render  ansfels  evil, 
must  ajso  render  you  evil.     You  may  perhaps  teH 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  257 

me  that  you  are  not  an  aagel,  1  grant  it,  nei«hci* 
are  you  Jesus  Christ,  neither  are  you  God  ;  yel  you 
are  called  to  be  /lo/y,  as  Jesus  Christ  was  holif  ;  and 
to  he  perfect^  as- your  Father  roh'ich  is  in  heaven  4s  per- 
fect. Though  you  are  not  an  angel^  yet  it  is  part  of 
your  glorious  hope,  that  you  sliall  be  as  the  angels  of 
God;  so  that  as  you  are  capable  of  their  happiness, 
you  must  think  yourself  obliged  to  be  as  like  them 
in  your  temper,  as  the  infirmity  of  your  present 
state  will  permit.  If  angels  are  to  rejoice  in  sing- 
ing the  praises  of  God  ;  though  their  joy  may  ex- 
ceed yours,  yet  you  are  as  much  obliged  to  your 
degree  of  joy  in  this  duty  as  they  are.  Angels,  by 
the  light  and  strength  of  their  nature,  may  abhor  all 
manner  of  sin  with  stronger  aversion,  a  higher 
degree  of  abhorrence  :  yet  you  are  as  much  obliged 
to  abhor  all  manner  of  sin,  as  they  are.  So  that  it 
is  no  more  lawful  for  you  to  delight  in  impure, 
profane  diversions,  which  good  angels  abhor,  than  it 
is  lawful  for  you  to  hate  those  praises  and  adorations 
which  are  their  delight. 

You  are  to  consider  also,  that  these  contradictory 
ternpers^  are  no  more  possible  in  the  same  men,  than 
in  the  same  angels  ;  it  is  no  more  possible  for  your 
heart  truly  to  delight  in  the  service  of  the  church, 
to  be  in  earnest  in  all  its  devotions,  and  at  the  same 
time  delight  in  the  entertainment  of  the  stage,  than 
it  is  possible  for  an  angel  to  delight  in  them  both. 

You  may  fancy  that  you  relish  these  entertain- 
ments, and  at  the  same  time  relish  and  delight  in 
the  service  of  God,  and  are  very  hearty  in  your  de- 
votions ;  you  may  fancy  this  as  cruel  men  may  fancy 
themselves  to  be  niercifaU  the  covetous  and  proud 
may  fancj?-  themselves  to  be  humble  and  heavenly- 
minded  ;  but  then  take  notice,  that  it  is  all  but 
mere  fiincy ;  for  it  is  cs  impossible  to  be  really 
devout  with  your  reason  and  understanding,-  and  at 
the  same  time  delight  in  the  entertainment  of  the 
stage  'y  as  it  is  impossible  to  be  really  charitable, 

22* 


258  A   PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

and  delighting  in  malice  at  the  same  time.  There 
is  indeed  a  falseness  in  our  heart,  a  mechanism  in 
©ur  constitution,  which  will  deceive  those,  who  do 
not  constantly  suspect  themselves.  There  arc  forms 
of  devotion^  little  rules  of  religion,  which  are  fixed  in 
us  bj  education,,  which  we  can  no  more  part  with, 
than  we  can  part  with  any  other  customs  which  we 
have  long  used.  Now  this  makes  many  peo]>le  think 
themselves  mighty  pious,  because  they  find  it  is  not 
in  their  nature  to  forbear  or  neglect  such  and  such 
forms  of  piety  ;  they  fanc}^  that  religion  must  have 
its  seat  in  their  heart,  because  their  heart  is  so  urjal- 
teral)le  in  certain  rules  of  religion.  Thus  a  person 
ihat  is  exact  in  his  times  of  prayer,  will  perhaps 
fhink  himself  much  injured,  if  you  was  to  tell  him 
diat  it  is  his  ivant  of  piety  that  makes  him  relish  the 
diversion  of  the  stage  ;  his  heart  immediately  justi- 
fies him  against  such  an  accusation,  and  tells  him 
how  constant  he  is  in  his  devotions  ;  whereas  it  is 
V  cry  possible,  that  he  may  have  but  little  more  piety 
than  what  consists  in  some  rules  3.ud  forms,  and  that, 
his  constancy  to  such  rules  may  be  owing  to  the 
same  cause,  which  makes  others  constantly  sleepy  at 
such  an  hour,  that  is,  the  mere  mechanism  of  his  con- 
stitution, and  the  force  of  custom.  This  is  the  state 
(9t  numbers  of  people,  otherwise  it  would  not  be  so 
common,  to  see  the  same  people,  constant  and  un- 
alterable in  some  rules  of  religion,  and  as  constant 
and  unalterable  in  pride,  passion  and  vanity. 

Again  ;  there  are  many  other  instances  of  a  false 
jpiety  :  some  people  feel  themselves  capable  of  re- 
iigious  fervours,  they  have  their  passions  frequently 
affected  with  religious  subjects,  who  from  thence 
iinagine,  that  their  hearts  are  in  a  true  state  of  reli- 
gion. But  such  a  conclusion  is  very  deceitful.  For 
the  mere  mechanism  and  natural  tempers  of  our  bodies 
and  our  present  condition,  may  be  the  chief  founda- 
tion of  all  this.  Thus  a  lady  may  find  herself,  as 
she  thinks,  warm  in  her  devotions,  and  praise  God 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  259 

at  church  with  a  sense  of  joy  ;  she  thinks  she  is  very 
good,  ])ccause  she  finds  herself  thus  affected  and 
pUaspA  with  the  service  of  the  church  ;  whereas,  it 
may  be  the  very  reason  why  she  is  more  than  ordi- 
narily devout,  and  thinks  it  a  pleasure  to  praise 
God,  is  because  she  is  going  to  a  hall^  or  a  pUty-,  as 
soon  as  divine  service  is  over.  This  agreeable 
expectation  has  so  put  her  spirits  in  order,  that  she 
can  be  very  thankful  to  God  all  the  time  she  is  at 
church* 

Another  has  been  pleased  with  the  compliments 
paid  to  her  person,  she  finds  herself  VQvy  finely 
dressed^  she  is  full  of  joy  under  such  thoughts^tindso 
can  easily  break  out  into  fervours  of  devotion^  and 
rejoice  in  God  at  a  time  when  she  can  rejoice  in 
any  thing.  These  frequent  starts  of  devotion  make 
her  think  herself  to  be  far  advanced  in  piety,  and 
she  does  not  perceive,  that  the  height  of  her  devo- 
tion is  owing  to  the  height  of  her  vanity.  Let  her 
but  be  less  pleased  with  herself,  let  her  be  unregard- 
ed^ undressed^  without  such  pleasing  reflections ,  and 
she  will  find  herself  sunk  into  a  strange  dulness 
towards  devotion. 

The  same  temper  is  very  frequent  in  common  life ; 
you  meet  a  person  who  is  very  fond  of  you,  full  of 
affection,  and  pleased  with  every  thing  you  say  or 
do  :  you  must  not  imagine  that  he  has  more  friend- 
ship for  you,  than  when  he  saw  you  last,  and  hardly 
look  any  notice  of  you  :  the  matter  is  only  this,  the 
man  is  in  a  state  of  joy  at  something  or  other,  he  is 
pleased  with  himself  and  so  is  easily  pleased  with 
you  ;  stay  but  till  this^oru  of  spirit  is  gone  off,  and 
he  will  show  you  no  more  affection  than  he  used  to 
do.  This  is  the  religion  of  numbers  of  people  ;  they 
are  devout  by  fits  and  starts^  in  the  same  manner  as 
they  are  pleased  hy  fits  and  starts^  and  their  devo- 
tion at  those  very  times  is  no  more  a  sign  of  (rue 
piety,  than  the  civility  anrl  compliments  of  a  person 
9ver-joycdj  are   signs  of  true  friendship.     But  still 


c 


260  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

these  liitlc  flashes  of  dev^otion,  make  people  think 
themselves  in  a  state  of  religion. 

Take  another  instance  of  a  false  piety  of  another 
kind  ;  Junius  has  been  orthodox  in  his  faith,  a  lover 
of  churchmen,  a  hater  of  heretics  these  several 
years  ;  he  is  the  first  that  is  sorry  for  a  dangerous 
book  that  is  come  out,  he  is  amazed  what  people 
would  be  at  by  such  writings,  but  thanks  God  there 
is  learning  enough  in  the  world  to  confute  A\i\n. 
He  reads  all  the  confutations  of  atheists,  deists,  and 
heretics  ;  there  is  only  one  sort  of  books,  for  which 
Junius  has  no  taste,  and  that  is,  books  of  devotion. 
He  freely  owns,  that  they  are  not  for  his  taste,  he 
does  not  understand  their  flights. 

If  another  person  was  to  say  so  much,  it  would  be 
imputed  to  his  want  of  piety  ;  but  liecause  Junius  is 
known  to  be  an  enemy  to  irreligion,  because  he  is 
constantly  at  church,  you  suppose  him  to  be  a  pious 
man,  though  he  thus  confesses  that  he  wants  the 
spirit  of  piety.  It  is  in  the  same  manner,  that  Ju- 
nius deceives  himself,  his  heart  permits  him  to  ne- 
clect  books  of  devotion,  because  his  heart  is  con- 
stantly  showing  him  his  zeal  for  religion,  and  hon- 
our for  the  church  *,  this  makes  him  no  more  suspect 
himself  to  want  any  degrees  of  piety,  than  he  sus- 
pects himself  to  Ijc  a  favourer  of  heresy.  If  he  never 
thinks  any  ill  of  Iiimself ;  if  he  never  suspects  any 
falseness  in  his  own  heart  :  if  he  is  prejudiced 
in  favour  of  all  his  own  ways,  it  is  because  he  is  pre- 
judiced in  favour  of  all  orthodox  men.  Junius  reads 
'much  controversy,  yet  he  does  not  take  it  ill,  that 
you  pretend  to  inform  him  in  matters  of  controversy; 
on  the  contrary,  he  never  reads  books  of  devotion, 
yet  is  angry  if  you  pretend  to  correct  him  in  matters 
of  that  kind.  Yo"u  may  suppose  him  m  staken  in 
something  that  he  is  always  studying,  and  he  will 
be  thankful  to  you  for  setting  him  right ;  but  if  you 
suppose  him  mistaken  in  things  that  he  never  applies 
himself  to,  if  you  suppose  that  any  body  knows  what 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  2C1 

humility^  hcavenly-mindedness,  devotion^  sclf-dtnin}^ 
mortification.,  rtpantance^  charity^  or  the  love  of  God 
is,  better  rhrm  hf.  you  provoke  his  tem[>€r,  ajid  he 
will  not  suffer  himself  to  be  informed  by  you.  Great 
numbers  of  people  are  like  Junius  in  this  respect, 
thoy  think  they  are  very  reli,a:ious  by  listening  to 
instructions  upon  certain  points,  by  readin'^  certain 
books,  and -being  ready  to  receive  farther  light,  who 
yet  cannot  bear  to  be  instructed  in  matters,  where 
they  arc  most  likely  to  de  deceived,  and  where  the 
deceit  is  of  the  utmost  danger.  They  will  be  thank- 
ful for  your  telling  th<^m  the  particular  times  in 
which  the  Gospels  were  written,  for  explaining  the 
word  eurodydon^  or  anathema  maranafhc.  ;  they  will 
be  glad  of  such  useful  instruction,  but  if  you  touch 
upon  such  subjects  as  really  concern  them  in  a  high 
degree,  such  as  try  the  state  and  way  of  their  lives, 
these  religious  people,  who  are  so  fond  of  religious 
truths,  cannot  bear  to  be  thus  instructed. 

What  is  the  reason,  that  when  w^e  consult  lawyers, 
it  is  not  to  hear  harangues  upon  ihe  law,  or  its  seve- 
ral courts,  it  is  not  to  hear  the  variety  of  cases  that 
concern  other  people,  but  i(  is  to  be  instructed  and 
assisted  in  our  own  ca-e  ?  Why  do  we  thank  them 
for  dealing  impartially  with  us,  for  searching  and 
examinin:^  into  the  true  state  of  our  case,  and  infor- 
ming us  of  every  thing  that  concerns  us  ?  What  is 
the  reason  that  we  aT)ply  to  physicians,  not  to  hear 
the  rise  and  progress  of  physic,  or  the  history  of 
dispu'ues  amongst  them,  not  to  hear  of  other  peo- 
ple's distempers  ;  but  to  tell  them  our  own  particu- 
lar state,  and  learn  the  cure  of  our  own  distem- 
pers ?  Why  do  we  thank  thorn  for  being  nicely 
exact  in  searching  us  out,  for  examining  into  every 
part  of  our  lives,  our  ways  of  eafin'S^  drinkins^  and 
sle^ping^  and  not  suffering  us  to  deceive  ourselves 
with  wToni(  opinions  and  practice's  ?  What  is  the 
reason  why  we  act  thus  consistently,  and  in  the 
same  manner,  in  both  these  instances  ?  Xow  the 


£62  A  PRACTICAL  TREATISE 

only  reason  is  this,  because  in  both  these  instances 
we  are  really  in  earnest.  When  you  are  in  earnest 
in  your  religion,  you  will  act  as  consistently,  and  in 
the  same  manner  there.  When  you  desire  solid 
piety,  as  you  desire  5omw<^  /tcrt/^/i,  your  chief  concern 
will  be  about  your  own  disorders  ;  you  will  thank 
divines  and  casuists  for  making  you  their  chief  care  ; 
you  will  be  glad  to  have  them  cxrimine  and  search 
mto  your  ways  of  life,  to  be  rightly  informed  of  the 
follies,  vanities,  and  dangers  of  your  state  ;  you  will 
be  glad  to  read  those  books,  and  consult  those  ca- 
suists, v/hich  are  most  exact  and  faithful  in  discov- 
ering your  faults,  who  question  and  examine  all 
your  ways,  who  discover  to  you  your  secret  corrup- 
tions, and  unsuspected  follies,  and  who  are  best  able 
to  give  you  the  surest  rules  of  arriving  at  Christian 
perfection.  When  you  are  in  earnest  in  your  reli- 
gion, you  will  as  certainly  act  in  this  manner,  as  you 
act  in  the  same  manner  with  the  lawyer  or  physician. 
Take  this  also  for  an  undeniable  truth,  that  till 
you  do  act  in  this  manner,  you  are  not  in  earnest 
in  your  religion.  This  therefore  is  a  good  rule  to 
examine  yourself  by.  Do  you  iind  that  you  act  in 
religion,  as  you  do  in  other  cases,  where  you  are  in 
earnest  ?  Are  you  as  suspicious  of  yourself,,  as  fear- 
ful of  mistake,  as  watchful  of  danger,  as  glad  of  as- 
sistance, as  desirous  of  success,  as  in  other  matters, 
where  your  life  or  fortune  are  at  stake,  or  where 
your  heart  is  engaged  ?  Never  imagine  that  your 
religion  is  founded  in  a  true  fear  of  God,  and  a 
hearty  desire  of  salvation,  till  you  find  yourself  act- 
ing as  you  do  in  other  matters,  where  your  fears  are 
great,  and  your  desires  hearty.  If  you  had  rather 
read  books  that  entertain  the  mind,  than  correct  the 
lieart  ;  if  you  had  rather  hear  a  c<isuist  examine 
other  people's  lives  than  yours  ;  if  you  had  rather 
hear  him  talk  of  the  excellency  and  wisdom  of  reli- 
gion, than  be  exact  in  trying  the  excellency  and 
>^isdom  of  your  way  of  life,  you  must  take  it  for 


tPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFtCTION.  263 

grantctl,  that  you  are  not  in  earnest  in  (he  reforma- 
iion  of  your  life,  and  that  there  are  some  tem{)crs  in 
you  more  strong  and  powerful,  that  more  rule  and 
govern  you  than  the  fear  of  God,  and  a  desire  of 
Salvation.     To  return  now  to  my  subject. 

1  had  observed,  that  people  who  are  religious 
upon  a  true  principle,  who  are  devout  with  their 
reason  and  understandincr^  cannot  possibly  either 
relish  or  allozu  the  entertainment  of  the  stai;e.  1 
observed,  that  these  contradictory  tempers,  a  delight 
in  the  offices  and  divine  service  of  the  church,  and 
a  delight  in  the  entertainments  of  the  stage,  are  no 
more  possible  to  be  in  the  same  good  nien^  than  in 
the  same  good  angels.  This  made  it  necessary  for 
me  to  step  a  little  aside  from  my  subject,  to  con- 
sider some  false  appearances  of  religion,  which  arc 
chieily  founded  in  natural  temper^  custom^  education,^ 
and  the  way  of  the  world  ;  which  yet  so  far  deceive 
people,  as  to  make  them  fancy  themselves  in  a  good 
state  of  religion,  while  they  live  and  act  by  another 
spirit  and  temper. 

Now,  I  readily  ow^n,  a  man  may  come  up  to  those 
appearances  of  religion,  he  may  carry  on  a  course 
of  such  piety  as  this,  and  yet  relish  the  diversion  of 
the  stage.  It  is  no  contradiction  for  a  man  to  like 
to  say  his  prayers,  to  be  often  delighted  with  the 
service  of  the  church,  to  hear  sermons,  to  read  divi-* 
nity,  to  detest  heretics,  and  yet  find  a.constantp/ea- 
sure  in  the  vain  entertainments  of  the  stage.  The 
world  abounds  with  instances  of  people  wdio  szcear^ 
drink^  and  debauch^  with  all  these  appearances  of 
religion.  Now  as  we  are  sure,  that  w  here  we  see 
these  vices,  those  persons  have  only  an  appearance 
of  religion,  which  is  founded  in  something  else,  than 
a  true  fear  of  God  ;  so  wherever  w'e  see  sober  and 
regular  people,  lovers  of  the  church,  and  friends  to 
religion,  taking  the  pleasure  of  the  stage,  we  may 
be  sure,  that  their  religion  is  defective,  and  founded 
in  something  that  is  weak,  and  false,  and  blind,  that 


264  A     PRACTICAL   TREATISE 

permits  them  to  act  so  inconsistently.  For  tiie  rea- 
soiling  is  full  as  strong  in  one  case  as  in  the  other. 
•Now  ahhough  I  would  not  have  people  to  be  solely 
guided  by  what  they  feel,  or  think  they  feel  in  their 
own  minds  ;  yet  this  we  may  depend  upon,  as  cer- 
tain in  our  tempers,  that  we  never  love  or  affect  any 
thing  truly,  but  we  hate  and  avoid  all  that  is  con- 
trary to  it  in  an  equal  degree.  So  that  we  may  be 
assured,  that  all  that  love,  or  zeal,  or  affection  that 
we  pretend  for  any  thing,  is  but  mere  pretence  and 
a  blind  motion,  unless  it  appears  by  a  zealous,lively 
abhorrence  of  every  thing  that  is  contrary  to  it. 
Upon  this  ground  I  again  affirm,  that  it  is  impossi- 
ble for  truly  religious  people  to  bear  the  entertain- 
ment of  the  stage.  For  consider  only  the  matter  in 
this  short  view.  A  truly  religious  person  is  to  love, 
and  fear,  and  adore  God,  with  all  his  hearty  and  ii-ith 
all  his  soul^  and  7cith  all  his  strength*  Now  1  ask  you, 
who  it  is  that  has  this  true  love  of  God?  Js  it  he  that 
delights  in  profaneness  at  all  times  ?  Or  is  it  he  that 
can  bear  with  profaneness  some  times  ?  Or  is  it  he 
thatabhors;and  avoids  it  at  all  times  and  in  all  places? 
Which  of  these  three  hath  a  right  to  be  esteemed  a 
true  lover  of  God?  Now  he  that  goeth  to  a  play  at 
any  time,  though  he  may  say  that  he  does  not  de- 
light in  profaneness,  yet  he  must  own  that  he  can 
sometimes,  and  in  some  places,  bear  with  profane- 
ness. For  profaneness  of  some  kind  or  other,  is  in 
most  of  our  plays,  almost  as  common  as  the  name 
of  God  in  Scripture.  But  I  will  suppose  it  were 
only  now  and  then,  and  that  no  profaneness,  either 
of  thought  or  expression,  happened  above  twice  or 
thrice  in  an  entertainment ;  yet  this  is  profaneness^ 
and  he  that  can  bear  with  so  much,  that  can  seek  the 
entertainment  as  a  pleasure,  must  acknowledge, 
that  though  he  does  not  delight  in  profaneness  as 
such,  yet  he  can  bear  with  profaneness  for  the  sake 
of  other  deli«;ht.  Now  ask  yourself — Has  not  he 
a  truer  love  of  God,  whose  piety  will  not  suffer  hi  m 


VPON  'CHRISTIAN   PERrSCTlON.  S'BS 

to  bear  with  profanencss  at.  any  time,  or  in  any 
place,  or  for  any  pleasure  ?  And  not  therefore  sup- 
poixcd  by  plain  reason  and  common  sense,  when  I 
affirm,  that  it  is  for  want  of  true  l'>iety,  that  any  peo- 
ple are  able  to  })ear  the  entertainment  of  thestnge  ? 

You  see  also,  that  no  higher  drgrro  of  piety  is  re- 
quired, to  fill  one  with  a  constant  abhorrence  of  the 
stage>,  than  such  a  piety  as  implies  an  abhorrence 
of  profanencss  at  all  limes,  and  in  all  places. 

When  you  are  thus  pious,  when  you  thus  love 
God,  you  will  have  a  piety,  a  love  of  God  that  will 
not  sutfer  you  to  be  at  an  entertainment  that  has 
any  mixture  of  profanencss.  Now  as  there  must 
be  this  manifest  defect  in  true  piety,  before  you  can 
bear  with  the  profanencss  of  the  stage  ;  so  if  yon 
consider  every  other  part  of  the  character  of  a  truly 
religious  man,  you  will  find,  that  there  must  be  the 
same  defect  run  through  the  whole  of  it,  before  he 
can  be  fit  for  such  diversion. 

You  tell  Ttie  that  you  love  the  church,  and  rejoice 
at  the  returns  of  divine  service,  though  you  now 
and  then  go  to  a  play^  Now  consider  what  it  is 
which  these  words  mean,  tfyou  tvve  and  delight  in 
4ht  service  of  churchy  then  you  love  to  be  in  a  state  of 
devotion,  you  love  to  draw  near  to  God,  you  love  to 
be  made  sensible  of  the  misery^  .fiT^'^^  and  zi'eight  of 
sin  ;  you  love  to  abhor  and  deplore  your  iniquities, 
and  to  lament  the  misery  and  Vanity  of  human  life ; 
you  love  to  hear  the  instructions  of  divine  wisdom^ 
to  raise  your  soul  unto  God,  and  sing  his  praises  ; 
you  love  to  be  on  your  knees  praying  against  all 
the  vanities  and  follies  of  life,  and  for  all  the  gifts 
and  graces  of  God's  Holy  Spirit. 

Now  all  this  is  implied  in  the  true  love  of  church- 
service,  for  unless  you  love  it  for  what  it  is,  and 
because  you  feel  its  excellency,  your  love  is  only 
a  blind  mechanical  motion  ;  but  if  you  love  it  in 
truth  and  reality,  if  you  are  thus  affected  with  it 
^jecause  all  its  parts  so  highly  suit  the  condition  of 

23 


266  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

human  nature,  whilst  you  are  thus  disposed,  you  can 
no  more  relish  the  wicked  spirit  and  foolish  tem- 
per of  stage-entertainments,  than  sincere,  dying  pe- 
nitents can  delight  in  the  guilt  of  their  sins. 

Never  imagine,  therefore,  that  you  are  sincerely 
affected  with  the  confessions  of  the  church,  or  that 
you  are  truly  glad  for  the  return  of  those  hours, 
which  humble  you  in  the  sight  of  God  ;  never  imag- 
ine, that  you  truly  feel  the  misery  and  weight  of 
sin,  or  sincerely  lament  the  corruption  of  your  na- 
ture, whilst  3^ou  dare  go  to  the  fountain-head  of 
corruption,  the  place  where  sin  reigns,  and  exerci- 
ses its  highest  power. 

Never  imagine,  that  you  have  the  spirit  of  devo- 
lion,  that  your  heart  is  renewed  with  the  Holy 
(ihost ;  that  it  truly  rejoices  in  the  means  of  grace, 
and  the  hope  of  glory;  never  imagine,  that  it  is 
your  joy  and  delight  to  worship  God  in  the  beauty 
of  holiness,  to  send  up  your  soul  to  him  in  prayers 
and  praises,  so  long  as  the  way  of  the  stage,  its 
impious  nonsense,  vile  jests,  profane  passions,  and 
lewd  speeches,  are  not  your  utter  abhorrence.  For 
it  is  not  more  absurd  to  believe,  that  a  corrupt  tree 
hiay  bring  forth  good  fruit,  than  to  believe,  that  a 
})ious  mind,  truly  devoted  to  God,  should  taste  and 
relish  the  entertainment  of  the  stage.  For  the  taste 
and  relish  of  the  mind,  is  a  more  certain  sign  of  the 
?tate  and  nature  of  the  mind,  than  the  quality  of 
fruit  is  a  sign  of  the  state  and  nature  of  trees. 

Had  the  impure  spirits,  which  asked  our  blessed 
Saviour  to  sufler  them  to  enter  into  the  herd  of 
.97ume,  said  at  the  same  time,  that  it  was  their  only 
delight  and  joy  to  dwell  in  the  light  and  splendour 
of  God,  no  one  c©uld  have  believed  them,  any  more 
than  he  could  believe  light  and  darkness  to  be  the 
same  thing. 

When  you  have  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  when  you 
are  devoted  to  God,  when  purity,  holiness,  and  per-* 
fcclion  is  your  real  care,  when  you  desire  to  live  in 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    fERFECTIOS.  267 

the  light  of  God's  Holy  Sph-ii,  io  act  by  his  mo- 
tions, to  rise  from  grace  to  grace  till  you  are  finishctl 
in  glory,  it  will  be  as  impossible  for  you,  whilst 
you  continue  so  disposed,  cither  to  seek  or  bear 
the  entertainment  of  the  stage,  as  it  is  impossible 
for  pure  and  holy  spirits  to  ask  to  enter  into  a  herd 
of  swine.  If  you  want  the  delight  of  so  corrupt  an 
entertainment,  so  contrary  to  tlie  spirit  and  purity 
of  religion,  you  ought  no  more  to  believe  yourself, 
when  you  pretend  to  true  piety  and  devotion,  than 
you  ought  to  have  believed  those  impure  sj^iiits,  if 
they  had  pretended  to  have  been  angels  of  UghU 
For  this  is  absolutely  certain,  anxl  what  you  ought 
carefully  to  consider,  that  nothing  ever  gives  us 
any  pleasure,  but  what  is  suitable  to  the  state  and 
temper  of  mind  that  we  are  then  in.  So  that  if  the 
corruption,  the  immorality,  the  profane  spirit  and 
wanton  temper  of  the  stage  entertainment,  can  give 
you  any  pleasure,  you  are  as  sure  that' there  is 
something  like  all  these  vices  in  your  heart,  as  you 
can  be  of  any  thing  that  relates  to  a  human  mind. 

Lastly,  Ask  yourself,  when  you  think  that  3'ou 
have  a  tnie  love  for  divine  service,  whether  he  is 
not  a  truer  lover  of  it,  whose  soul  is  so  fashioned  to 
it,  so  deeply  affected  with  it,  that  he  can  delight  in 
nothing  that  is  contrary  to  it  ;  who  cau  bear  with 
no  entertainment  that  is  made  up  of  speeches,  pas- 
sions, harangues,  and  songs,  so  opposite  to  the  wis- 
dom, the  discourses,  instructions,  and  hymns  of 
divine  service.  This,  I  believe,  you  cannot  deny  ; 
and  if  this  cannot  be  denied,  then  it  must  be  owned 
as  a  certain  truth,  that  he  who  can  bear  with  the 
stage  entertainment,  has  this  farther  defect,  that  he 
v/ants  the  true  love  of  divine  service. 

Again  ;  It  is  part  of  a  truly  religious  man  to  love 
the  Scriptures,  and  delight  in  reading  them  ;  you 
say  this  is  your  temper,  though  you  go  to  plays.  I 
answer,  that  it  is  for  want  of  a  true  love  and  delight 
in  the  Scriptures,  that  you  arc  able  to  reliali  plays. 


^tiS  A  PRACTICAL    TREATIS3 

V'ou  may  perhaps  so  love  the  Scripture?,  that  vorf 
may  think  it  your  duty  to  read  them,  and  desire  to- 
understand  them.  But  whf  n  you  once  so  love  the 
Scriptures  as  to  love  to  be  like  them,  to  desire 
that  the  spirit  and  temper  of  Scripture  may  be  the 
one  spirit  and  temper  of  your  life  :  ;vhen,  for  in- 
stance, you  love  tliis  doctrine,  Slrire  fo  enter  in  at 
the  £trah  gate.  If  thy  right  eye  offend  ihec,  pluck  i-t 
<mt^  and  cast  it  from  thee.  When  you  are  of  the 
--anie  mind  with  this  Scripture,  Be  t-obcr,  he  vif^i- 
ianl,  because  ymir  adversary^  the  devil,  .  p  ... 
as  a  i-oaring  lion,  icalkcth  about,  seek-  ^"* 

ing  7vhom  he  may  devour. 

When   you  are  intent  upon   this  truth,  For  zee 
■must  all  appear  before  the  judgment'       or.     -    m 
it  eat  of  Christ,  that  every  one  may  re-       "  ^' 

cdve  the  things  done  in  his  body.      When  this  text 
has  taken  possession  of 3'Our  heart.  Seeing  then  thai 
i.ill  these   things  must  he  dissolved,      3    p  t      -     « 
cvhat  manner  of  per  !ion3  aught  ye  to  be      *'  •      * 

in  (dl  holy  conversation  and  godli- 
ness ? 

When  you  resign  up  your  Avhole  soul  lo  liiis  ex: 
Itortation,  7\dce  my  yoke  upon  you,     ,r  •     ^ 

and  learn  oj  me.  for  I  am  meelc  and 
loioly  in  heart.  When  your  heart  can  truly  bear  you 
witness  to  this  doctrine,  that  you  put  on  the  2ohole  ar- 
mour of  Christ,  that  yoii  may  be  able  to  stand,  (hat  you 
live  by  faith,  and  not  by  sight,  pressing  after  the  2^Tize 
of  your  high  calling.  When  you  thus  love  antl 
delight  in  the  Scriptui'C  ;  when  you  thus  enter  into 
its  spirit  and  temper ;  when  its  purity  is  your  pu- 
rity ;  its  fears,  and  hopes,  and  joys,  are  your  fears, 
and  hopes,  and  joys;  you  will  find  yourself  one  of 
those  who  constantly,  and  at  ail  times,  abominate 
the  folly,  impertinence,  and  profaneness  of  the 
stage. 

Let  me  desire  you,  when  you  are  dressed  for  a 
pla}',  to  read  over  our  Saviours  divine  sermon  on 
the  Mount  before  you  go  *,  try  whether  your  soul  is 


tfON    CrtRIStlAN    l>ERF£ctlON*  269 

full  of  the  spirit  that  is  there  taught ,  examine  whe- 
ther you  then  fe?i  in  your  heart  such  a  love  of  the 
Scripturi;,  'i-i  to  love  those  cohditions  of  blessedncs.^ 
that  ar-:  tLere  described,  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spi- 
rit^  blecsid  are  they  that  mourn,  blessed  arc  they  that 
hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness.  Do  you  find 
yourself  in  these  heights  of  holiness  ?  Is  your  soul 
reformed,  purified,  and  exalted,  according  to  thes'' 
doctrines  ?  Or  can  you  imagine,  that  you  are  con- 
forming yourself  to  those  doctrines,  that  you  deparc 
from  none  of  them,  when  you  arc  preparing  your- 
self for  a  pleasure,  which  is  the  proper  pleasure  of 
the  most  corrupt  and  debauched  minds  ?  Blessed 
are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  Godi  Can 
you  think  that  you  are  rightly  aff'ccted  with  this 
doctrine,  that  you  are  labouring  after  this  purity, 
that  you  are  preparing  to  see  God,  when  you  arc 
going  to  an  entertainment,  to  which  they  ought 
only  to  go  who  have  no  thoughts  of  seeing  God,  nor 
any  desires  after  that  purity  which  prepares  us 
for  it? 

Lastly  ;  Another  virtue  essential  to  Christian  ho- 
liness is  chastity  ;  our  blessed  Saviour  has  given  us 
the  measure  of  this  virtue  in  these  words  :  But  I 
say  unto  you^  that  rvhosoever  looketh  on  a  tooman  to 
lust  after  her,  hath  committed  adultery  zoith  her  already 
in  his  hearti  We  are  sure^  therefore,  that  this 
virtue  is  not  preserved,  unless  we  keep  ourselves 
clear  from  all  immodest  thoughts  and  impure  imag- 
inations ;  we  are  sure  also,  that  the  guilt  of  these 
is  like  the  guilt  of  adultery.  This  is  the  doctrine 
of  Christ.  Look  noAV  into  the  play-house,  and  think 
whether  any  thing  can  be  imagined  more  contrary 
to  this  doctrine. 

For  not  to  consider  the  monstrous  lewdness  and 
immodesty  of  the  stage,  take  it  in  its  best  state, 
when  some  admired  tragedy  is  upon  it  :  are  the 
extravagant  passions  of  distracted  lovers,  the  im- 
pure ravings  of  inflamed  heroes,  the  tender  com- 

23* 


270  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

plaints,  the  joys  and  torments  of  lovp,  and  gra=^ 
descriptions  of  lust  ;  arc  the  indecent  actions,  the 
amorous  transports,  the  wanton  address  of  the  ac- 
tors, which  makes  so  great  a  part  of  the  most  sober 
and  modest  tragedies— are  these  things  an  enter- 
tainment consistent  with  this  Christian  doctrine  1 
You  may  as  well  imagine,  that  murder  and  rapine 
are  consistent  with  charity  and  meekness.  I  hope 
if  will  not  now  he  5aid,  that  1  have  spent  too  much 
time  upon  this  subject,  that  seems  not  necessary  in 
this  treatise  upon  Christicfn  perfection.  For  though 
these  things  arc  generally  looked  upon  as  little, 
because  they  are  called  pleasures  and  diversions  ; 
yet  they  may  as  justly  be  called  vices  and  debau- 
«:heries  ;  they  afiect  religion,  as  lies  and  falsehoods 
aflect  it,  in  the  very  heart  and  essence,  and  render 
people  as  incapable  of  true  pirty  as  any  c>f  the 
c^rossest  indulgences  of  sensuality  and  intempe- 
rance. And  perhaps  it  may  be  true,  that  more  peo- 
ple arc  kept  strangers  to  the  true  spirit  of  religion, 
by  what  are  called  pleasures,  diversions,  and  amuse- 
ments, than  by  confessed  vices,  or  the  cares  and  bu- 
;siness  of  life.  I  have  now  only  one  thing  to  beg  of 
fhe  reader,  that  he  would  not  think  it  a  sufficient 
answer  to  all  this,  to  say  in  general,  that  it  is  a  doc- 
trine too  strict  and  rigid ;  but  that  he  would  consider 
(wery  argument  as  it  is  in  itself ;  not  whether  it  be 
strict  and  rigid,  but  whether  it  be  false  reasoning,, 
or  more  strict  and  rigid  than  the  doctrine  of  Scrip- 
ture :  if  it  prescribes  a  purity  and  holiness  which  is 
wot  according  to  the  spirit  and  temper  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, let  it  be  rejected  ;  not  as  too  strict  and  rigid^ 
but  as  a  species  of  false  worship,  as  vain  and  ridicu- 
lous as  idolatry  ^  but  if  what  is  here  asserted  be 
highly  conformable  to  the  most  plain  doctrines  of 
Scripture  ;  the  saying  that  it  is  too  strict  and  rigid, 
is  of  no  more  weight  against  it  than  if  it  was  said, 
that  it  was  too  true.  It  is  not  my  intention  to  trou- 
ble the  world  with .  any  particular  notions  of  my 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTIGX.  271 

OWD,  or  to  impose  any  unnecessary  rules,  or  fancied 
degrees  of  perfection  upon  any  people.  But  in  de- 
claring against  the  stage,  as  I  have  done,  1  have  no 
more  followed  any  particular  spirit,  or  private  tem- 
per, or  any  more  exceeded  the  plain  doctrine  of 
Scripture,  than  if  I  declared  against  drunkenness  and 
debauchery.  Let  a  man  but  be  so  much  a  Chris- 
tian, as  not  to  think  it  too  high  a  degree  of  perfec- 
tion, or  too  strict  and  rigid  to  be  in  earnest  in  these 
two  petitions,  Lead  us  not  into  ttrnptation,  hut  deliver 
us  from  tvil ;  and  he  has  Christianity  enough  to  per- 
suade him,  that  it  is  neither  too  high  a  perfection, 
nor  too  strict  and  rigid,  constantly  to  declare 
against,  and  always  to  avoid  the  entertainment  of 
the  stage. 


CHAP.  XII. 

Christians  are   called  to  a  constant  State  of  Prayer 
and  Devotion, 

IT  is  one  principle  article  of  our  religion,  to  be- 
lieve that  our  blessed  Saviour  is  now  at  the  right 
hand  of  God,  there  making  perpetual  intercession 
for  us,  till  the  redemption  of  mankind  is  finished. 
Prayer  therefore  is,  undoubtedly,  a  proper  means 
of  drawing  near  to  God,  a  necessary  method  of  re- 
storing sinners  to  his  favour ;  since  he,  who  has 
conquered  sin  and  death,  who  is  constituted  Lord 
of  all,  is  yet,  as  the  great  advocate  for  sinners, 
obliged  to  make  perpetual  intercession  for  them. 

Whenever  therefore  we  are  in  the  spirit  of  prayer, 
when  our  hearts  are  lifted  up  to  God,  breathing 
out  holy  petitions  to  the  throne  of  grace,  we  have 
this  encouragement  to  be  constant  and  fervent  in  it, 
that  we  arc  then  joining  with  an  intercession  at  the 


272  A     PRACTICAL    TKEATISE 

right  hand  of  God,  and  doing  that  for  ourselves  6fi 
earth  which  our  blessed  Saviour  is  perpetually 
doing  for  us  in  heaven.  This  reason  of  prayer  is, 
perhaps  not  much  considered  5  yet  it  certainly  con- 
tains a  most  powerful  motive  to  it.  For  who,  that 
considers  his  redemption  as  now  carrying  on  by  an 
intercession  in  heaven,  can  think  himself  so  agreea- 
ble to  God,  so  like  his  Saviour,  as  when  the  con^ 
stancy  of  his  own  prayers  bears  some  resemblance 
to  that  never-ceasing  intercession  which  is  made 
above  ?  This  shows  us  also,  that  we  are  most  of  all 
to  desire  those  prayers  which  are  offered  up  at  the 
altar,  where  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ  are  join- 
ed with  them.  For  as  our  prayers  are  only  accep- 
table to  God  through  the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ :  so 
we  may  be  sure  that  we  are  praying  to  God  in  the 
most  prevailing  way,  when  we  thus  pray  in  the 
name  of  Christ,  and  plead  his  merits  in  the  highest 
manner  that  we  can# 

Devotion  may  be  considered  either  as  an  exercise 
of  public  or  private  prayers  at  set  times  and  occa- 
sions, or  as  a  temper  of  the  mind,  a  state  and  dis- 
position of  the  heart,  which  is  rightly  affected  with 
such  exercises.  Now  external  acts  of  devotion  are 
like  other  external  actions,  very  liable  to  falseness, 
and  are  only  so  far  good  and  valuable  as  they  pro- 
ceed from  a  right  disposition  of  heart  and  mind* 
Zealous  professions  of  friendship  are  but  the  more 
abominable  hypocrisy  for  being  often  repeated,  un- 
less there  be  an  equal  zeal  in  the  heart ;  so  solemn 
prayers,  rapturous  devotions,  are  but  repeated  hy- 
pocrisies, unless  the  heart  and  mind  be  conformable 
to  them.  Since,  therefore,  it  is  the  heart  only  that 
is  devout  ;  since  the  regularity  and  fervency  of  the 
heart  is  the  regularity  and  fervency  of  devotion  ;  I 
shall  consider  devotion  chiefly  in  this  respect,  as  it 
is  a  state  and  temper  of  the  heai't.  For  it  is  in  this 
sense  only,  that  Christians  are  called  to  a  constant 
state  of  devotion  j  they  are  not  to  be  always  on  thcip 


rPON    CHRISTIAN  PERFECTION.  273 

knees  in  acts  of  prayer,  but  they  arc  to  be  always 
in  the  state  and  temper  of  devotion* 

Friendship  does  not  require  us  to  be  always 
waiting  upon  our  friends  in  external  services  ;  these 
wffices  have  their  times  and  seasons  of  intermission  ; 
it  is  only  the  service  of  the  heart,  the  friendship  of 
the  mind,  that  is  never  to  intermit ;  it  is  not  to  be- 
gin and  end,  as  external  services  do,  but  it  is  to 
persevere  in  a  constancy  like  the  motion  of  our 
heart,  or  the  beating  of  our  pulse.  It  is  just  so  in 
devotion  ;  prayers  have  their  hours,  their  begin- 
ning and  ending  ;  but  that  turn  of  mind,  that  dispo- 
sition of  the  heart  towards  God,  which  is  the  life  and 
spirit  of  prayer,  is  to  be  as  constant  and  lasting  as 
our  own  life  and  spirit. 

The  repeating  of  a  creed  at  certain  times  is  an 
act  of  faith  ;  but  that  faith,  which  overcometh  the 
ruorld^  stays  neither  for  times  nor  seasons,  but  is  a 
living  principle  of  the  soul,  that  is  always  believ- 
ing, trusting,  and  depending  upon  God.  In  the 
same  manner  verbal  prayers  are  acts  of  devotion  ; 
but  that  prayer  which  saveth,  which  openeth  the 
gates  of  heaven,  stops  not  at  forms  and  manuals  of 
devotion,  but  is  a  language  of  the  soul,  a  judgment 
of  the  heart,  which  worships,  adores,  and  delights 
in  God,  at  all  times  and  seasons. 

The  necessity  and  reason  of  prayer  is,  like  all 
other  duties  of  piety,  founded  in  the  nature  of  God, 
and  the  nature  of  man.  It  is  founded  in  the  nature 
of  God,  as  he  is  the  sole  fountain  and  cause  of  all 
happiness  ;  it  is  founded  in  the  nature  of  man,  as  he 
is  weak  and  helpless,  and  full  of  wants.  So  that 
prayer  is  an  earnest  (^plication  or  ascent  of  the  heart 
to  GofZ,  as  to  the  sole  cause  of  all  happiness.  He 
therefore  that  most  truly  feels  the  misery,  corrup- 
tion, and  weakness  of  his  own  nature,  who  is  mosr 
fully  convinced  that  a  relief  from  all  these  disor- 
ders, and  a  true  happiness,  is  to  be  found  in  (jod 
alone  5  he  who  is  most  fullv  convinced  of  these  t\vo 


274  A     PRACTICAL   TREATISE 

truths  is  most  fully  possessed  of  the  spirit  ofprajcr. 
There  is  but  one  way,  therefore,  to  arrive  at  a  true 
■state  of  devotisn  ;  and  that  is,  to  get  right  notions 
of  ourselves,  and  of  the  divine  nature  ;  that  having 
a  full  view  of  the  relation  we  bear  to  God,  our  souls 
may  as  constantly  aspire  to  him  as  they  con- 
f^tantly  aspire  after  happiness.  This  also  shows  us 
the  absolute  necessity  of  ail  those  fore-mentioned 
doctrines  of  humility,  self-denial,  and  renunciation 
of  the  world.  For  if  devotion  is  founded  in  a  sense 
of  the  poverty,  misery,  and  weakness  of  our  nature, 
then  nothing  can  more  effectually  destroy  the  spi- 
rit of  devotion  than  pride,  vanity,  and  indulgence 
of  any  kind.  These  things  stop  the  breath  of 
prayer,  and  as  necessarily  extinguish  the  flame  of 
devotion,  as  water  extinguishes  common  fire. 

U  prayer  is  also  founded  in  right  notions  of  God  ; 
in  believing  him  to  be  the  sole  fountain  and  cause  of 
all  our  happiness  ;  then  every  thing  that  takes 
this  truth  out  of  our  minds,  that  makes  us  less  sensi- 
ble of  it,  makes  us  so  far  less  capable  of  devotion  > 
so  that  worldly  cares,  vain  pleasures,  false  satisfac- 
tions, are  all  to  be  renounced,  that  we  may  be  able 
to  pray.  For  the  spirit  of  prayer  has  no  farther 
hold  of  us,  than  so  far  as  we  see  our  wants,  imper- 
fections, and  weakness,  and  liltewise  the  infinite 
fullness  and  all-sufficiency  of  God  ;  when  we  tho- 
roughly feel  these  two  great  truths,  then  are  we  in 
the  true  spirit  of  prayer.  Would  you,  therefore, 
be  in  the  state  and  temper  of  devotion,  you  must 
practise  all  those  ways  of  life  that  may  humble  you 
in  your  owrt  sight  ;  you  must  forbear  all  those  in- 
dulgences and  vanities  which  blind  your  heart,  and 
give  you  false  notions  of  yourself ;  you  must  seek 
that  way  of  life,  accustom  yourself  to  such  practices, 
as  may  best  convince  you  of  the  vanity  of  the 
world,  and  the  littleness  of  every  thin*j  but  God. 
This  is  the  only  foundation  of  prayer.  When  you 
do  not  enough  see  cither  your  own  littleness,  or  tlic 


rPON    CHRISTIAN   PERFECTIO.V.  275 

^eatncss  of  God  ;  when  you  either  seek  for  plea- 
sure in  yourself,  or  think  that  it  is  any  Avhcrc  to  be 
found,  except  in  God,  you  put  yourself  out  of  a 
state  of  devotion.  For  you  can  desire  nothing  but 
what  you  think  you  want  ;  and  30U  can  desire  it 
only  in  such  a  degree  as  you  feel  the  want  of  it.  It 
is  certain  therefore,  that  whatever  lessens  or  abates 
the  feeling  of  your  own  wants,  whatever  takes  you 
irom  looking  to  God,  as  the  only  possible  relief  of 
ihem,  so  far  lessens  and  abates  the  spirit  and  fer- 
vour of  your  devotion. 

We  sometimes  exhort  people  to  fervour  in  devo- 
tion ;  but  this  can  only  mean  as  to  the  outward  acts 
of  it :  for  to  exhort  people  to  be  fervent  in  devotion, 
as  that  implies  a  temper  of  the  heart,  is  to  as  little 
purpose  as  to  exhort  people  to  be  merrj^,  or  to  be 
sorry.  For  these  tempers  always  follow  the  judg- 
ments and  opinions  of  our  minds  ;  when  we  per- 
ceive things  to  be  as  we  like  them,  then  we  are 
merry ;  when  we  find  things  in  a  contrary  state, 
then  we  arc  sorry.  It  comes  to  pass  after  the  same 
manner  in  devotion  ;  bid  a  man  be  fervent  in  devo- 
tion ;  tell  him  it  is  an  excellent  temper  ;  he  knows 
no  more  how  to  go  about  it  than  how  to  l^e  merry, 
because  he  is  bid  to  be  so.  Stay  till  old  age,  till 
sickness,  misfortunes,  or  the  approach  of  death,  has 
convinced  him  that  he  has  nothing  good  in  him- 
»self ;  that  there  is  nothing  v?luable  in  the  world  ; 
that  all  that  is  good,  or  great,  or  glorious,  is  ia 
God  alone  ;  and  then  he  will  lind  himself  as  dis- 
posed to  devotion,  and  zealous  desires  after  God, 
as  the  man  is  disposed  to  cheerfulness,  who  sees 
things  in  that  state  in  which  he  would  have  them 
to  be.  So  that  the  one  and  the  only  way  to  be  de- 
vout, is  to  see  and  feel  our  own  weakness,  the  va- 
nity of  the  world,  and  greatness  of  God,  as  dying 
men  see  and  feel  them.  It  is  as  impossible  to  be 
devout  without  seeing  things  in  this  view,  as  it  is 
impossible  to  be  cheerful  without  perceiving  some- 


276  A   PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

thing  in  our  condition  that  is  according  to  our  mind* 
Ilcnce  therefore  wc  may  learn  to  admire  the  wis- 
dom and  divinity  of  the  Christian  religion,  which 
calls  all  its  members  to  humility,  self-denial,  and  a 
r<?nunciation  of  worldly  tempers,  as  a  necessary 
foundation  of  pietj''  and  devotion.  It  was  in  these 
practices  that  our  Saviour  first  instituted  his  reli- 
gion ;  it  was  on  these  conditions,  that  the  apostles 
embraced  it,  and  taught  it  to  others  5  it  was  in  these 
doctrines  that  the  primitive  Christians  became  such 
worthy  followers  of  our  Saviour  and  his  apostles* 
These  doctrines  are  still  in  the  Gospel,  and  till  they 
are  to  be  found  in  our  lives  we  shall  never  find  our- 
vselves  in  a  state  of  devotion.  For  I  must  again  re- 
peat what  my  reader  cannot  too  much  reflect  upon, 
that  since  devotion  is  an  earnest  application  of  the 
soul  to  God,  as  the  only  cause  and  fountain  of  hap- 
piness, that  it  is  impossible  for  the  soul  to  have  this 
desire,  without  having  such  reasons  to  produce  and 
support  it,  as  are  necessary  to  produce  and  support 
other  tempers  of  the  mind. 

Now  it  is  impossible  for  a  man  to  grieve  when  he 
finds  his  condition  answering  his  desires,  or  to  be 
over-joyed  when  he  finds  his  state  to  be  full  of  mi- 
sery ;  yet  this  is  as  possible,  as  consistent  with  our 
nature,  as  for  a  man  to  aspire  after,  and  delight  in 
God  as  his  only  happiness,  whilst  he  is  delightin  g 
in  himself,  and  the  vanity  of  the  world.  So  that  to 
pretend  to  devotion  without  great  humility,  and  an 
entire  renunciation  of  all  worldly  tempers,  is  to  pre- 
tend to  impossibilities  ;  it  is  as  if  a  man  should  pre- 
tend to  be  cheerful  whilst  he  is  in  vexation  and  im- 
patience ;  he  must  first  bring  himself  to  a  state  of 
satisfaction  and  contentment,  and  then  cheerfulness 
will  flow  from  it ;  so  he  that  would  be  devout,  must 
first  be  humble,  have  a  full  view  of  his  own  mise- 
ries and  wants,  and  the  vanity  of  the  world,  and 
then  his  soul  will  be  full  of  desires  after  God.  A 
proud,  or  vain,  or  worldly-minded  man,  may  use  a 


UrON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  J<4 

"r-Aaiiurvl  of  prayers  ;  but  he  cannot  l>c  dcvoUl,  be- 
cause devotion  is  the  application  of  an  hunil)Ic  heart 
10  God,  as  its  onlj  happiness. 

Hence  we  may  also  perceive  why  people  of  learn- 
ing and  great  application  to  b<>oks,  who  seem  to 
have  retired  from  the  corruptions  of  the  world,  to 
spend  that  time  in  their  studies,  are  yet  often  not 
devout.  The  reason  is,  because  devotion  is  founded 
in  great  humility,  and  a  full  sense  of  the  vanity  and 
littleness  of  every  thing  but  God  ;  whereas  it  is 
often  the  same  vanity  that  wears  out  some  scholars 
in  their  studies,  that  wears  out  other  people  at  court, 
in  the  camp,  or  at  sea.  They  do  not  want  to  be 
merchants,  or  colonels,  or  secretaries  of  state  ;  but 
ihey  want  to  hfc  critics,  grammarians,  and  histo- 
rians. They,  it  may  be,  disregard  riches  and  equi* 
page  ;  despise  the  sports  and  diversions  of  the  pre- 
sent age  ;  avoid  the  folly  of  conversation  ;  but  then 
it  is  to  contemplate  the  riches  and  equipage,  the 
sports,  and  diversions  of  the  ancient  Romans. 

The  vanity  of  some  ladies  and  gentlemen  would 
be  touched  if  you  should  tell  them  that  they  did 
not  understand  dress ;  some  great  scholars  would 
be  much  dej-ected  if  you  should  suppose  them  igno- 
rant of  a  fold  in  the  Roman  garments. 

The  bulk  of  mankind  are  so  dull  and  tasteless,  so 
illiterate,  as  to  set  their  hearts  upon  current  coin, 
large  fields,  and  flocks  and  herds  of  cattle.  Great 
learning  has  raised  some  men  above  this  grossness 
t)f  taste  ;  their  heart,  only  beats  at  the  sight  of  a 
medal  and  ancient  coins  ;  they  are  only  afraid  of 
dying  before  they  have  outdone  the  world  in  their 
collections  of  shells,  skins,  stones,  animals,  flies,  and 
insects. 

You  would  not  expect  that  a  merchant  should  be 
devout  because  he  traded  in  all  parts  of  Europe  ; 
or,  that  a  lady  should  be  pious,  because  she  under* 
stands  all  sorts  of  fine  v>'ork  and  embroidery.  No\C- 
if  you  was  to  look  into  the  business  of  many  pro- 

34 


iJTB  A     rRA€TICAL  TREATISE 

found  scholars  ;  if  you  was  to  consider  the  nature 
of  such  learning  as  makes  the  greatest  figure  in  the 
world,  you  will  find  no  more  tendency  in  it  to  piety 
and  devotion,  than  there  is  in  merchandise  or  em- 
broidery. 

When  men  retire  into  their  studies  to  change 
their  nature,  to  correct  and  reform  their  passions ;  to 
fmd  out  the  folly,  the  falseness,  the  corruption,  and 
weakness  of  their  hearts  ;  to  penetrate  into  the 
vanity  and  emptiness  of  all  worldly  attainments ; 
when  they  read  and  meditate  to  fill  their  souls  with 
religious  wisdom  and  heavenly  affections,  and  to 
raise  their  hearts  unto  God  ;  when  this  is  learning 
(and  what  else  deserves  the  name),  then  learning 
will  lead  men  unto  God,  learned  men  will  be  very 
devout,  and  great  scholars  will  be  great  saints. 

Hence  we  also  learn  why  so  many  people,  seem- 
ingly religious,  are  yet  strangers  to  the  spirit  of 
devotion.  Crito  buys  manuals  of  devotion,  he  finds 
nothing  in  them  but  what  is  according  to  the  doc- 
trines of  religion  ;  yet  he  is  not  able  to  keep  pace 
with  them  ;  he  feels  nothing  of  what  he  reads,  and 
throws  them  by,  as  something  that  does  not  suit  his 
taste  :  he  does  not  consider  that  the  fault  is  in  him- 
self, and  that  these  very  same  books  will  suit  him 
Avhen  he  is  dying.  He  does  not  consider,  that 
whilst  he  is  so  well  pleased  with  himself,  ^o  fond 
of  the  world,  so  delighted  with  a  variety  of  schemes 
that  he  has  on  foot,  it  is  as  impossible  for  him  to  be 
devout  as  for  a  stone  to  hang  by  itself  in  the  air,  or 
a  building  to  stand  without  any  thing  to  stand  upon. 
If  Crito  was  to  begin  his  devotion  to  God  with 
humility,  self-denial,  and  a  renunciation  of  all 
worldly  tempers,  he  would  show  that  he  used  com- 
mon sense  in  his  religion,  that  he  was  as  wise  as 
that  builder  who  begins  his  house  by  laying  a  foun- 
dation. But  to  think  of  adding  devotion  to  a  life 
that  does  not  naturally  lead  to  it,  that  is  not  so 
ordered  as  to  be  so  many  steps  towards  it,  is  as  ab- 


UPON   CHRISTIAN   PERFECTION.  279 

sui'J  as  if  a  man  should  think  of  getting  to  the  end 
of  his  journey,  without  going  through  any  of  the 
way  that  leads  to  it.  For  as  it  is  a  temper  of  the 
mind,  it  must  arise  from  a  state  of  ©ur  mind,  and 
nuist  have  its  proper  causes  to  produce  it.  as  all 
other  tempers  have. 

Suppose  you  was  to  call  a  man  from  some. joyful 
feast,-i"rom  the  pleasures  of  songs,  music  and  dancing; 
and  tell  him  to  go  into  the  next  room  to  grieve  for 
half  an  hour,  and  then  return  to  his  mirth  ;  suppose 
you  was  to  tell  him,  that  he  must  mourn  that  half- 
hour  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart,  that  it  was  a  very 
excellent  thing,  and  highly  becoming  a  rational 
creature.  It  is  possible  he  might  obey  you  so  far 
as  to  go  into  the  room  appointed  for  moui-ning,  he 
maybe  able  to  sit  still,  look  grave,  sigh  and  hang 
down  his  head,  and  stay  out  his  half  hour  ;  but  you 
are  sure  that  he  cannot  rcall}^  grieve,  and  for  this 
reason,  because  he  is  in  a  state  of  festival  joy,  and 
is  returning  to  his  feast.  Now  this  is  the  state  of 
Crito,  and  great  numbers  of  Christians  ;  they  are 
always  at  a  feast ;  their  life  is  nothing  else  but  a  suc- 
cession of  such  pleasures,  satisfactions,  and  amuse- 
ments, as  aiTect  and  hurry  their  minds,  like  the  fes- 
tival joys  of  drinking,  music,  and  dancing.  So  that 
when  they  go  to  devotion,  they  are  just  as  capable 
of  it,  as  a  man  that  is  rejoicing  at  a  feast  is  capable 
of  mourning  at  the  same  time.  Let  not  the  reader 
imagine  that  this  is  the  case  only  of  such  great  peo- 
ple, as  live  in  such  a  constant  scene  of  pleasure  as 
their  fortunes  can  procure,  for  it  is  a  case  that 
equally  concerns  almost  all  states  of  life.  For  as  a 
mail  rejoicing  at  an  ordinary  feast,  is  as  indisposed 
for  grief  as  one  that  is  merry  at  a  more  splendid 
entertainment ;  so  the  course  of  pleasures  and 
w^orldly  delights,  which  falls  in  w^ith  lower  states  of 
life,  may  render  such  people  as  incapable  of  devo- 
tion, as  they  are  who  have  other  ejitertainraents 


2B0  A   PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

provided  for  them.  Now  no  one  wonders  that  he 
cannot  put  on  grief,  when  he  is  rejoicing  at  a  feast  of 
any  kind  ;  because  he  knows  there  is  suflicient 
reason  for  it,  because  his  mind  is  then  otherwise 
engaged.  But  if  Crito  would  but  deal  thus  faithfully 
with  himself,  he  would  as  readily  own,  that  he  can- 
not relish  strains  of  devotion,  that  his  tcart  does 
not  enter  into  them,  for  this  reason,  because  it  is 
otherwise  engaged.  For  people  certainly  relish 
every  thing  that  suits  with  the  state  of  life  that  they 
live,  and  can  have  no  taste  or  relish,  but  such  as 
arises  from  the  way  and  manner  of  life  that  they^ 
are  in.  Whoever  therefore  finds  himself  unable  to 
relish  strains  of  devotion,  is  dull  and  unaffected  with 
them,  may  take  it  for  certain,  that  it  is  owing  to 
the  way  and  state  of  life  that  he  is  in:  he  may  also 
be  farther  assured,  that  his  life  is  wanting  in  the 
virtues  of  humility,  self-denial,  and  a  renunciation 
of  worldly  goods,  since  these  virtues  as  naturally 
])reparc  and  dispose  the  soul  to  aspire  to  God,  as 
a  sense  of  sickness  disposes  people  to  wish  for 
health. 

Let  us  now  put  these  things  together  ;  it  is  cer* 
tain,  that  devotion,  as  a  temper  of  the  mind,  must 
have  something  to  produce  it,  as  all  other  tempers 
have ;  that  it  cannot  be  taken  up  at  times  and  occa- 
sions, but  must  arise  from,  the  state  of  the  s-oul,  as 
all  cither  tempers  and  desires  do.  It  is  also  equally 
certain,  that  humility,  self-denial,  and  a  renuncia- 
tion of  the  world,  are  the  only  foundation  of  devo- 
tion, that  it  can  only  proceed  from  these,  as  from  its 
proper  causes.  Here  therefore  we  must  fix  our 
rule  to  take  the  just  measure  of  ourselves.  We 
must  not  consider  how  many  books  of  devotion  we 
have,  how  often  we  go  to  church,  how  often  we  have 
felt  a  warmth  and  fervour  in  our  prayers  ;  these  arc 
uncertain  signs  ;  but  we  must  look  to  the  fountlation, 
and  assure  ourselves,  that  our  devotion  neither  is, 
nor  can  be  £;rcater  than  our  himiiliiy,   '^elf<ltniaK 


UPON    CBRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  28 1 

and  renunciation  of  the  world.  For  as  it  must  pro- 
ceed only  from  these  causes,  so  it  can  rise  no  high- 
er than  they  can  carry  it,  and  must  be  in  the  same 
state  of  strength  or  weakness  that  they  are.  If  our 
humility  is  false,  our  self-denial  hypocritical  and 
trilling,  and  our  worldly  tempers  not  half  mortified, 
our  devotion  will  be  just  in  the  same  state  of  false- 
ness, hypocrisy,  and  imperfection.  The  care  there- 
fore of  our  devotion  seems  wholly  to  consist  in  the 
care  of  these  duties  ;  so  far  as  we  proceed  in  them, 
so  far  we  advance  in  devotion.  We  must  alter  our 
lives,  in  order  to  alter  our  hearts  ;  for  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  live  one  vvay,  and  pray  another. 

This  may  teach  us  to  account  for  the  several  false 
kinds  of  devotion  which  appear  in  the  world  ;  they 
cannot  be  otherwise  than  they  are,  because  they 
have  no  bottom  to  support  them.  Devotion  is  like 
friendship^  you  hear  of  it  every-where,  but  find  it 
no-where  ;  in  like  manner,  devotion  is  every-where 
to  be  seen  in  modes  of  worship,  in  forms  of  speech, 
in  outward  adorations,  but  is  in  reality  scarce  to  be 
found.  Hence  also  it  is,  that  you  see  as  much  dif- 
ference in  the  devotion,  as  in  the  faces  of  Christians ; 
for  wanting  its  true  foundation,  being  like  an  afi'ect- 
ed  friendship,  it  has  as  many  shapes  as  there  are 
tempers  of  men.  Many 'people  are  thus  far  sincere 
in  their  devotions,  that  they  would  be  glad  to  pray 
devoutly;  they  strive  to  be  fervent,  but  never  attain 
to  it,  because  they  never  took  the  only  possible 
way.  They  never  thought  of  altering  their  lives, 
or  of  living  difterent  from  the  rest  of  the  world ;  but 
hope  to  be  devout,  merely  by  reading  over  books 
of  devotion.  Which  is  as  odd  a  fancy,  as  if  a  man 
should  expect  to  be  happy,  by  reading  discourses 
upon  happiness.  When  these  people  dare  take 
Christianity  as  it  is  offered  to  them  in  the  Gospel, 
when  they  deny  themselves,  and  renounce  the 
world,  as  our  Saviour  exhorted  his  followers,  they 
'will  then  have  begun  devotion. 

24* 


282  A     FRAt'fXtAL    IKEATibf. 

Trcbonius  asks  how  often  he  shall  pray :  he  think* 
the  nicety  of  the  question  shows  the  piety  and  ex- 
actness of  his  heart ;  but  Trebonius  is  deceived,  for 
the  question  proves  that  he  is  a  stranger  to  devo- 
tion. Trebonius  has  a  friend,  he  is  constantly  visi- 
ting him,  he  is  never  well  out  of  his  compitny  ;  if  he 
is  absent,  letters  are  sent  at  all  opportunities.  Now 
what  is  the  reason  that  he  never  asks  how  often  he 
shall  visit,  how  often  he  shall  delight  in,  how  often 
he  shall  write  to  his  friend  2  It  is.  because  his  friend 
has  his  heart,  and  his  heart  is  his  faithful  and  suffi- 
cient instructor.  When  Trebonius  has  given  his 
heart  to  God,  when  he  takes  God  to  be  as  great  3 
good,  as  substantial  a  happiness  as  his  friend,  he 
will  have  done  asking  how  often  he  shall  pray. 

Julius  goes  to  prayers,  he  confesses  himself  to  be 
a  miserable  sinner,  he  accuses  himself  to  God  with 
all  the  aggravations  that  can  be,  as  having  no  health 
in  him :  yet  Julius  cannot  bear  to  be  informed  of  any 
imperfection,  or  suspected  to  be  wanting  m  any 
degree  of  virtue.  Now  can  there  be  a  stronger 
proof,  that  Julius  is  wanting  in  the  sincerity  of  his 
devotions  ?  Is  not  this  a  plain  sign,  that  his  con-^ 
fessions  to  God  arc  words  only  of  course  and  hum- 
ble civility  of  speech  to  his  Maker,  in  which  his 
heart  has  no  share  ? 

If  a  man  was  to  confess  that  his  eyes  were  bad, 
his  hands  weak,  his  feet  feeble,  and  his  body  help- 
less, he  would  not  be  angry  with  those  that  supposed 
he  was  not  in  perfect  strength,  or  that  he  might  stand 
in  need  of  some  assistance.  Yet  Julius  confesses 
himself  to  be  in  great  weakness,  corruption,  dis- 
order, and  infirmity  ;  and  yet  is  angry  at  any  one 
fhat  does  but  suppose  him  defective  in  any  virtue. 
Is  it  not  the  same  thing  as  if  he  had  said.  You  jtmst 
not  imagine  that  I  am  in  earnest  in  my  devotions  7 

It  would  be  endless  to  produce  instances  of  false  de- 
votion ;  I  shall  therefore  proceed  no  farther  in  it,  but 
rather  endeavour  to  explain  and  illustrate  that  which- 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    rEUFECTlO.'f.  283 

is  true.  DevoLion,  we  see,  is  an  earnest  application  of 
the  soul  to  God  as  its  only  happiticss.  This  is  devo- 
tion, considered  as  a  state  and  temper  of  the  mind. 
All  those  texts  of  Scripture  which  call  us  to  God» 
as  our  true  and  only  good,  which  exhort  us  to  a  ful- 
ness of  faith,  of  hope,  of  joy,  and  trust  in  God,  are 
to  be  considered  as  so  many  exliortations  to  devo- 
tion ;  because  devotion  is  only  another  name  for 
the  exercise  of  all  these  virtues.  That  soul  is  de- 
voted to  God,  which  constantly  rises  and  tends 
towards  God  in  habits  of  love,  desire,  faith,  hope, 
joy  and  trust.  The  end  and  design  of  religion,  as  it 
proposes  to  raise  men  to  a  life  of  glory  with  Christ 
at  the  right  hand  of  God,  carries  a  stronger  reason 
for  devotion,  than  any  particular  exhortation  to 
prayer.  Beloxed^  saith  St.  John^  it  doth  not  yet  ap- 
pear^ what  zue  shall  be  ;  but  toe  know^  that  when  he 
shall  appear^  toe  shall  be  like  him^for  zve  shall  see  him 
as  he  is*  St.  Paul  also  saith,  Ms  zoe  have  borne  the 
image  of  the  earthly^  we  shall  also  bear  -  p 
the  image  of  the  heavenly. 

Now  these  and  such  like  texts  seem  to  me  to  carry 
the  most  powerful  motives,  to  awaken  the  soul  into  a 
state  of  devotion.  For  as  the  apostle  saith.  He  that 
hath  this  hope^  purifeth  himself  even  as  he  is  pure  ;  so 
he  that  hath  this  hope  of  being  taken  into  so  glo- 
rious an  enjoyment  of  the  divine  nature,  must  find 
his  heart  raised  and  enlivened  in  thinking  upon 
God.  For  these  truths  cannot  be  believed  without 
putting  the  soul  into  a  state  of  prayer,  adoration, 
and  joy  in  God.  The  seeing  thus  far  into  heaven,  is 
seeing  so  many  motives  to  praise  and  thanksgiving. 

It  was  this  view  of  future  glory,  that  made  the 
apostle  break  out  in  this  strain  of  thanksgiving, 
Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesns 
Christy  7uho  hath  begotten  us  to  a  lively  i  p  ♦  •  c, 
hope  by  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ 
from  the  dead^  to  an  inheritance  und^filed^  and  that 
fadeth  not  away.     And  would  we  praise  and  adore 


284  A  PRACTICAL  TREATISE 

God  with  such  thanksgiving  as  filled  the  heart  of 
this  apostle,  we  must  raise  it  from  a  contemplation 
of  the  same  truth,  that  incorruptible  inheritance  that 
is  prepared  for  us. 

Again ;  the  same  apostle  saith  to  the  Philippians, 
our  conversation  is  in  heaven  ;  and  as  the  reason  and 
motives  to  this  heavenly  conversation,  he  addeth, 
JVhence  lue  look  for  the  Saviour,  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  zoho  shall  change  our  vile  body,  p,  .,  ... 
that  it  may  be  fashioned  like  unto  his 
glorious  body.  So  that  the  most  powerful  motive  to 
heavenly-mindedness,  the  plainest  reason  for  our 
conversation  in  heaven,  is  our  expectation  of 
Christ's  glorious  appearance,  when  he  shall  come 
to  put  an  end  to  the  miseries  of  this  life,  and  clothe 
us  with  robes  of  immortality.  These  truths  much 
more  effectually  raise  the  heart  to  God,  than  any 
particular  precepts  to  prayer ;  they  do  not  'so  much 
exhort,  as  carry  the  soul  to  devotion  :  he  that  feels 
these  truths,  feels  himself  devout  ;  they  leave  a 
light  upon  the  soul,  which  will  kindle  into  holy 
flames  of  love  and  delight  in  God. 

The  way  therefore  to  live  in  true  devotion,  is  to 
live  in  the  contemplation  of  these  trui  Is  ;  we  must 
daily  consider  the  end  and  hope  of  oiir  calling,  that 
our  minds  may  be  formed  and  raised  to  such  tem- 
pers and  desires  as  are  suitable  to  it,  that  all  little 
anxieties,  worldly  passions,  and  vain  desires  may 
be  swallowed  up  in  one  great  desire  of  future 
glory.  When  the  heart  is  in  this  state,  then  it  is  in 
a  state  of  devotion,  tending  to  God  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  justl}^  suits  the  nature  of  o-tr  religion  :  for 
whither  should  our  hearts  tend, but  where  cur  trea- 
sure is  ?  This  devotion  to  God  is  signified  in  Scrip- 
lure,  by  living  by  faith  and  not  by  sight,  when  the 
invisible  things  of  the  other  life  are  the  reason,  the 
motive,  and  the  measure  of  all  our  desires  and  tem- 
pers. When  Christians  are  thus  settled  in  right 
judgments  of  things,  and  tending  towards  God  in 


\>POy   CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  295 

such  motions  and  desires  as  are  suitable  to  thcin^ 
then  are  they  devout  worshippers  of  God  every- 
where ;  this  makes  the  common  actions  of  their  life, 
acts  of  religion,  and  turns  every  place  into  a  cha- 
pel. And  it  is  to  this  state  of  devotion  that  we  are 
all  called,  not  only  by  particular  precepts,  but  by 
the  whole  nature  and  tenor  of  our  rcli^^ion. 

Now  as  all  states  and  tempers  of  the  mind  must 
be  supported  by  actions  and  exercises  suitable  to 
them,  so  devotion,  which  is  an  earnest  application 
of  the  soul  to  God,  as  its  only  happiness,  must  be 
supported  and  kept  alive  by  actions  and  exercises 
suitable  to  it,  that  is,  by  hours  and  forms  of  prayer 
both  public  and  private.  The  devotion  of  the 
iieart  disposes  us  to  observe  set  times  of  prayer  ^ 
and  on  other  the  hand,  set  times  of  prayer  as  natural- 
ly  increase  and  enliven  the  devotion  of  the  heart.  It 
is  thus  in  all  other  cases  ;  habits  of  the  mind  dis"« 
pose  us  to  actions  suitable  to  them,  and  these  ac- 
tions likewise  strengthen  and  improve  the  habits 
from  whence  they  proceed. 

It  is  the  habitual  taste  for  music,  that  carries 
people  to  concerts  ;  and  again,  it  is  concerts  that 
increase  the  habitual  love  of  music.  So  it  is  the 
right  disposition  of  the  heart  towards  God,  that 
leads  people  to  outward  acts  of  prayer  ;  and  on  the 
other  side,  it  is  outward  acts  of  prayer,  that  pre- 
serves and  strengthens  the  right  disposition  of  the 
heart  towards  God.  As  therefore  we  are  to  judge 
of  the  significancy  of  our  prayers,  by  looking  to  the 
state  and  temper  of  our  heart,  so  are  we  also  to 
judge  of  the  state  of  our  heart,  by  looking  to  the/rc^ 
qnencif^  constancy^  and  importunitij  of  our  prayer=i. 
For  as  we  are  sure  that  bur  prayers  are  insigniii- 
cant,  unless  they  proceed  from  a  ri2;ht  heart,  so  un- 
less our  prayers  I:»c  frcffucnfn  cms!  tn^.  eind  fiill  of 
iniportifiilli/^  we  may  be  e(|ualiy  sure  I  hat  our  heart, 
is  not  ric;ht  towards  God. 

Our  bIo?§ed  Saviour  had  ind^^^d  condemned  one 


286  A   PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

sort  of  long  prayer.  But  tchen  ye  prcty  use  not  vain 
repetilions^  as  the  Heathens  do  ;  for  Matth.  vi.  7. 
they  think  they  shall  be  heard  for  their 
riiuch  speaking.  Now  it  is  not  length,  or  a  continu- 
ance of  prayer  that  is  here  forbid  ;  but  vain  repeti- 
tions^ when  instead  of  praying,  the  same  words  are 
only  often  repeated.  Secondly^  The  Heathens  arc 
not  here  condemned  for  being  iaiportunate  and 
persevering  in  their  prayers,  but  for  a  wrong  judg- 
ment, a  false  devotion,  in  that  they  thought  they 
were  heard,  because  they  spoke  much,  that  is,  often 
repeated  the  same  words.  So  that  all  that  Chris- 
tians are  here  forbid,  is  only  this,  they  are  not  to 
think  that  the  efficacy  of  pra^^er  consists  in  vain  and 
lon2:  repetitions,  but  are  to  apply  to  God  upon  a 
better  principle,  a  more  enlightened  devotion.  Now 
though  this  is  plainly  all  that  is  here  condemned, 
yet  some  people  imagine,  that  a  continuance  and 
importunity  of  prayer  is  here  reproved ;  and  thence 
conclude,  that  shortness  is  a  necessary  qualification 
of  prayer. 

But  how  willing  must  such  people  be  to  be  de- 
ceived, before  they  can  reason  in  this  manner  ?  For 
the  words  have  plainly  no  relation  to  length  or 
shortness  of  prayer  ;  they  no  more  condemn  the  one 
than  the  other  ;  but  speak  altogether  to  another 
matter.  They  only  condemn  an  opinion  of  the 
Heathens^  which  supposed  that  the  excellency  and 
power  of  prayer  consisted  in  a  multitude  of  repeti- 
tions. Now  to  think  that  a  short  prayer  is  better 
because  it  is  short,  is  the  same  error  as  to  hold 
with  the  Heathens^  that  a  prayer  is  more  powerful, 
the  longer  the  same  words  are  repeated.  It  is  the 
same  mistake  in  the  nature  of  devotion. 

But  supposing  the  meaning  of  these  words  was 
something  obscure  (which  it  is  not)  yet  surely  it  is 
plain  enough,  that  our  Saviour  has  expressly  taught 
and  recommended  a  continuance  and  importunity  in 
prayer.     And  how  perversely  do  they  read  the 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  287 

Gospel,  who  can  find  his  authority  against  such 
kind  of  devotion  !  For  can  he  who  was  so  often  re- 
tiring to  desarts.  to  niovMtains^  to  solitary  places  to 
pray,  who  spent  ii^hole  nights  in  prayer  ;  can  he  be 
supposed  to  have  left  a  reproof  upon  such  as  should 
follow  his  example  ?  But  besides  the  authority 
of  his  great  example,  his  doctrine  is  on  no  point 
more  plain  and  certain,  than  wliere  he  teaches  fre* 
([uency,  continuance,  and  importunity  in  prayer. 
lie  spake  a  parable  unto  them,  to  this  end,  that  men 
ouirht  ahi'ays  to  pray,  and  not  to  faint,  Sayiri<r, 
There  7oas  in  a  city  a  judge  tvhich  feared  nut  God, 
nor  regarded  man.  And  therd  teas  a  zvidoiu  in  that 
city,  and  she  came  unto  him,  saying,  avenge  me  of 
my  adversary.  And  he  would  not  for  a  while  :  but 
aftenvards  he  said  zcithin  himsef,  though  I  far  not 
God,  nor  regard  man,  yet  because  this  icidozu  troubleth 
7ue,  I  xo'dl  avenge  her.  And  shall  not  God  avenge  his 
own  elect,  7vhich  cry  day  and  night  unto  him  ?  The 
apostle  tells  us,  that  this  parable  w  as  to  teach  men 
lo  pray  always,  and  7iot  to  faint ;  and  it  is  plain  to 
any  one  that  reads  it,  that  it  has  no  other  intent, 
but  to  recommend  continuance  and  importunity^  as 
tlie  most  prevailing  qualifications  of  prayer.  The 
widow  is  relieved  ;  not  because  she  asked  relief,  but 
because  she  continued  asking  it :  and  God  is  said  to 
avenge  his  elect  ;  not  because  they  cry  to  him  now 
and  then,  but  because  they  cry  day  and  night.  Our 
blessed  Saviour  teacheth  the  same  doctrine  in  ano- 
ther parable,  of  a  person  going  to  his  friend  to  bor- 
row three  loaves  of  him  at  midnight  ;  where  it  thus 
concludes — /  say  unto  you,  though  he  would  not  rise 
and  give  him,  because  he  is  his  friend,  yet  because  of 
his  importunity,  he  will  rise  and  give  him  as  many  as 
he  needeth.  Here  again  the  sole  scope  of  this  pas- 
sage is  to  show  the  great  power  and  efficacy  of  con- 
tinuance and  importunity  in  prayer. 

Consider  farther  in  what  manner  prayer  is  men- 
tioned in  Scripture.    St.  Paul  does  not  command  us 


"2o8  A    rRACTIf  .^L   TREATISE* 

10  pray,  but  to  vi-ay  7C)tJiout  ceasing.   ■,  r^i    ^     v  1 '^ 
The  same  doctrine  is  thus  taught  in   p  ,     '  "*  .  '    ^' 
nnothcr   place — cont'muG  in  prayer^ 
And  again,  praying  always  rvilh  all  prayer  and  sup* 
'plication  in  the  Spirit,     It  is  said  ^^     tt-  u      '•     i  " 
Anna^  that  she  served  God  in  fasting        r    *       * 
and  prayer  night  and  day.     Now  who  can  imagine 
that  shortness  is  an  excellency  of  prayer  ? 

Ciito  says  he  desires  no   more   time   for  rising, 
dressing,  and  saying  his  prayers,  than  a  quarter  of 
an  hour.     He  tells  this  to  his  friends  ;  not  to  show 
his  want  ©f  religion,  but  that  he  may  be  thought  to 
tmderstand  dcvotiono     You  tell  him  that   our  Sa- 
viours parables    teach  continuance  and  importunity 
in  prayer  ;  that  the  apostles  exhort  to  pray  zoithout 
teasing^  to  pray  akvays  ;  and  that  devout  persons 
are  recorded  in  Scripture,  as  praying n/of/i<  and. day ^ 
Still  Clito  is  for  short  prayers.     He  at  last  finds  a 
text  of  Scripture,  and  appeals  to  the  example  of  the 
angels  ;  they  only  said.  Glory  he  to  God  on  high^  and 
on  earth peace^  good-zmll  towards  men,    Clito  takes  this 
10  be  an  argument  for  short  prayer  ;  because  the 
angels  had  done  so  soon  j  but  Clito  must   be   told, 
that  this  is  no  prayer  ;  it  is  only  a  joyful  proclama- 
tion to    men.     And  surely   the  manner   of  angels 
speaking  to  men,  can  be  no  rule  or  measure  of  the 
devotion  of  men  speaking  to  God.     The  angels  had 
no  more  to  tell  the  world,  than  this  message  of  joy  ; 
but  does  it  therefore  follow,  that  sinners  are  to  be  as 
short  in  their  addresses  to  God? The  Scripture  tells 
us  sometimes  of  voices  from  heaven  ;  but  it  would  be 
strange  to  make  the  things  that  were  then  spoken^ 
ihe  measure  of  our  prayers  when  we  call  upon  God* 
If  Clito  must  have   an  example  from  heaven,  he 
might  have  found  one  much  more  proper  than  this, 
where  it  is  said,  that  they   rest  not  day  and  nighty 
sayin,^,  Holy,  Hohj^  Holy  Lord  God     j^^^^   .^^^    g^ 
Almighty^  zvhich  zvas  and  w,  and  is  to 
come* 


I'tON"   CHRISTIAN   PERFECTIOK.  !^C9 

t)ur  blessed  Saviour  saith,  But  thou^  luhcn  ihou 
jyrayest,  enter  into  ih]/ closely  and  when     ^r  ,•    ^ 

thou  hast  shut  thy  door,  pray  unto  thy 
Father^  Slc.  Now  here  indeed  is  no  mention  of  the 
time  that  prayer  is  to  be  continued  ;  but  yet  this 
preparation  for  prayer,  of  entering  into  our  closet, 
and  shutting  the  door,  seems  to  teach  us  that  it  is  a 
work  of  some  time  ;  that  we  are  not  hastily  to  open 
our  door,  but  to  allow  ourselves  time  to  continue 
and  be  importunate  in  our  prayers. 

How  long  and  how  often  all  people  ought  to  pfay^ 
is  not  to  be  stated  by  any  one  particular  nieasui-e. 
]5ut  this  we  may  take  as  a  general  rule,  that  re- 
lates to  all  particulars,  that  every  Christian  is  to 
pray  so  often  and  so  long,  as  to  show  a  persever- 
ance and  importunity  in  prayer;  as  to  ishow  that  ho 
prays  zoithout  ceasing ;  that  he  prays  always  ;  and  that 
he  cries  to  God  night  and  day  :  for  these  arc  essen- 
tial qualitications  of  prayer,  and  expressly  recjuired 
in  Scripture.  One  would  think  it  impossible  for 
people  to  be  sparing  in  their  devotions,  who  have 
read  our  Saviour's  parables,  which  teach  us  that  the 
blessings  of  heaven,  the  gifts  and  graces  of  God's 
Holy  Spirit,  are  given  to  such  as  are  imporlvuiate 
in  their  prayers.  I  shall  now  only  add  a  word  or 
two  in  favour  of  frequent  and  continued  prayers. 

First,  frequent  and  continued  prayers  are  a  likely 
means  to  beget  in  us  the  spirit  of  prayer.  A  man 
that  is  often  in  his  closot  on  his  knees  to  God, 
though  he  may  for  some  time  perform  but  a  li}> 
labour,  will,  if  he  perseveres,  find  the  very  labou?' 
x)i  his  lips  altering  the  temper  of  his  heart  ;  and 
that  he  has  learned  to  pray,  by  praying  often. 

This  we  find  to  be  true  in  all  parts  of  life,  that 
we  catch  a  spirit  and  temper  from  such  conversa* 
tion  and  ways  of  life  as  we  allov/  ourselves  in.  Use 
is  called  a  second  nature,  and  experience  teaches 
^vs,  that  whatever  we  accustom  ourselves  to,  will  by 

35 


290  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

degrees  tpansrorm  our  spirit  and  temper  into  a  like- 
ness to  it 

Crcdula  was  for  some  time  a  tender  mother, 
friendly  and  charitable  to  her  neighbours,  and  full 
of  good-will  towards  all  people :  she  is  now  spightful, 
malicious,  envious,  and  delights  in  nothing  l)ut 
scandal.  How  came  Credula  thus  changed  ?  Why, 
she  has  been  for  several  years  spending  her  time  in 
visiting  ;  she  entered  into  scandal  and  evil-speaking 
at  first,  merely  for  the  sake  of  talk  ;  she  has  gone 
on  talking,  till  she  has  talked  her  very  heart  and 
spirit  into  a  taste  for  nothing  else  :  at  first  she  only 
detracted  from  her  neighbours  and  friends,  because 
she  was  visiting  ;  but  now  she  visits  for  the  sake  of 
detraction.  Credula  is  hardened  and  cruel  in  evil- 
speaking,  for  the  same  reason  that  butchers  arc  in- 
human and  cruel,  because  she  has  been  so  long  used 
to  murder  the  reputation  of  her  neighbours.  She 
has  killed  all  her  own  family  over  and  over  ;  and  if 
she  seeks  new  acquaintance,  it  is  to  get  fresh  matter 
for  scandal ;  now  all  this  change  in  Credula  is  pure- 
ly owing  to  her  indulging  a  talkative  temper. 

Now  every  thing  that  we  use  ourselves  to,  enters 
into  our  nature  in  this  manner,  and  becomes  a  part 
of  us  before  we  are  aware.  It  is  common  to  observe, 
that  some  people  tell  a  story  so  long,  till  they  have 
forgotten  that  they  invented  it.  This  is  not,  as  is 
supposed,  through  a  bad  memory ;  but  because  the 
things  which  we  make  constant  and  familiar,  will, 
by  degrees,  steal  the  approbation  of  the  heart.  If 
therefore  we  would  but  be  often  on  our  knees,  put- 
ting up  our  prayers  to  God,  though,  for  a  while,  it 
was  only  form  and  outward  compliance,  yet  our 
hearts  would,  by  degrees,  learn  the  language  of  our 
mouths.  The  subject  of  our  prayers  w^uld  become 
the  subject  of  our  hearts ;  we  should  pray  ourselves 
into  devotion,  and  it  would  become  a  part  of  us,  in 
the  same  manner,  that  all  other  ways  enter  intr  our 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    rKEFECTION.  2^1 

nature.  Our  reason  and  judgment  would,  at  last, 
consent  to  our  lips,  and  by  saying  the  same  thint;;s 
often,  wc  should  come  to  believe  and  feel  them  in  a 
])roper  manner.  For  it  is  a  very  reasonable  thing 
to  judge  of  the  effects  of  good  customs,  by  what  we 
see  to  be  the  eifects  of  bad  ones.  They  therefore, 
who  are  hasty  in  their  devotions,  and  think  a  little 
will  do,  are  strangers  both  to  the  nature  of  devo- 
tion, and  the  nature  of  man  ;  they  do  not  know  thit 
they  are  to  learn  to  pray,  and  that  prayer  is  to  be 
learned,  as  they  learn  all  other  things,  hy  frcHjucn- 
cy,  constancy,  and  perseverance. 

Secondly  ;  There  is  another  great  advantage  in 
frequent  and  continued  prayers. 

The  cares  and  pleasures  of  life,  the  levity,  vanity, 
and  dullness  of  our  minds,  make  us  all,  more  or 
less,  unfit  for  our  devotions.  We  enter  into  our 
closets  thus  unprepared  for  prayer  ;  now  if  our 
petitions  are  very  short,  we  shall  end  our  prayers 
before  our  devotion  is  begim  ;  before  we  hive  time 
10  recollect  our  minds,  or  turn  our  hearts  to  the  bu- 
siness we  are  upon. 

Now  continuance  in  prayer  is  a  great  relief 
against  these  indispositions  ;  not  only  as  it  gives  the 
heart  leisure  to  fall  from  worldly  cares  and  con- 
cerns, but  as  it  exercises  the  mind  upon  such  sub- 
jects as  are  likely  to  abate  its  vanity  and  distrac-* 
tion,  and  raise  it  into  a  state  of  seriousness  and 
attention.  It  is  the  case  of  all  people  to  find  them- 
selves inconstant  in  their  prayers,  joining  heartily 
with  some  petitions,  and  wandering  away  from 
others ;  it  is  therefore  but  common  prudence  to 
contiime  our  prayers,  that  our  minds,  which  will 
wander  from  some  parts,  may  have  others  to  join 
in.  If  we  were  masters  of  our  attention,  and  could 
be  as  fervent  as  we  pleased,  then  indeed  fewer  words 
might  serve  for  our  devotion  ;  but  since  our  minds 
arc  weak,  inconstant,  and  ungovernable,  we  must 
endeavour  to  catch  and  win  them  to  devotion,  by 


X>92  A    TRACTICAL    TREATISE 

^uch  means  as  are  suited  to  such  a  state  of  weak- 
ness, (lulness,  and  inconstancy.  He  that  goes  to  his 
closet  in  a  hurry,  only  to  repeat  a  short  form  of 
words,  may  pray  all  his  life  without  any  devotion : 
and  perhaps  he  had  been  a  devout  man  long  ago,  if 
it  Ivad  ever  entered  into  his  head,  that  meditation 
and  continuance  in  prayer  arc  necessary  to  excite 
devotion.     If  a  man  was  to  make  it  a  law  to  him- 
?;elf  to  meditate  a  while  before  he  began  his  prayers: 
if  he  v/as  to  force  his  mind  to  think  what  prayer  is. 
what  he  prays  fof,  and  to  whom  he  prays  ;  if  ho 
should  again  make  it  a  rule  to  stop  in  some  part  oi 
his  prayers,  to  ask  his  heart  whether  it  really  prays, 
or  to  let  his  soul   rise   up    in  silence  unto   God  ; 
prayers  thus  performed,  thus  assisted  by  meditation 
-and  continuance,  would,  in  all  likelihood,  soon  ren- 
der the  mind  truly  devout.     It  is  not  intended  by 
this  to  impose  any  particular  method  upon.all  peo- 
ple •  it  is  only  to  show  us,  that  there  are  certain 
means  of  assisting  our  devotion  ;  some  rules,  though 
litde  in  themselves,  yet  of  great  use  to  render  our 
minds  attentive  and  fervent  in  our  applications  to 
God.     It  is  the  business  therefore  of  every  sincere 
Christian  to  be  as  wise  as  he  can  in  these  arts  and 
methods  of  self-government.  As  we  ourselves  know 
most  of  the  falseness  of  Qur  own  hearts,  of  the  tem- 
per of  our  minds,  and  the  occasion  of  our  defects  ; 
so  if  we  v/ould   but  be    so  wise,  as   to   think  the 
amendment  of  our  hearts  the  best  and  greatest  work 
that  w^e  can  do,  every  one's  reason  would  help  him 
to  such  useful  rules  as  had  a  peculiar  fitness  to  his 
own  state.     Self-reflection  is  the  shortest  and  most 
certain  way  of  becoming  truly  wise,  and  truly  pious. 
There  are  two  seasons  of  our  hearts,  which,  if  we 
w^ould  but  reflect  upon,  we  might  get  much   know- 
led  <tc  of  ourselves,  and  learn  how  to  assisb-our  de- 
votfon  •  I  mean  the  time  when  we  are  most  affected 
with  our  devotions ;  and  the  time  when  we  are  most 
indisposed   to   pray.     Both   these  seasons  equally 


UPON    CHRlSirAN    PERFECTlO."^.  293 

sci-ve  to  instruct  us  in  the  knowledge  of  ourselves, 
and  how  to  govern  the  motions  of  our  hearts. 

Reflect  with  yourself  how  it  was  with  you  ;  w^hat 
circumstances  you  was  in ;  what  had  ha])pened  to 
you  ;  what  you  had  been  doing ;  what  thoughts  you 
had  in  your  head  at  such  a  time,  when  you  found 
yourself  so  aftected  with  your  devotions.  Nowifyou 
lind  out  w  hat  state  you  was  then  in,  when  you  was 
disposed  to  pray  so  fervently,  then  you  have  found 
out  a  certain  way  of  raising  your  devotion  at   ano- 
ther time.     For  do   but  put  yourself  in  the  snme 
state,  recal  the  same  thoughts,  and  do  as  3'ou  had 
then  been  doing,  and  you  will  find  the  same  causes 
will  again  produce  the  same  eflects,  and  you  will  be 
again  in  the  same  temper  of  devotion.    'If  you  was 
then   to  put  down   in  writing  some  short  remem- 
brance of  the  chief  things,   that  ever   raised  your 
heart  to  fervency  of  prayer,  so  that  you  might  have 
recourse  to  a  full  view  of  them,  as   often  as  your 
mind  wanted  such  assistance,  you  would  soon  find 
a  benefit  that  would  well  reward  your  labour.    On 
the  contrary,  whenever  you  have  found  yourself  ve- 
ry much  indisposed  for  prayer,  reflect  with  yourself 
what  state  you  w^as  then  in  ;   what  had  happened 
unto  you  ;  what  thoughts  you  had  in  your   head  ; 
what  passions  were  then  awakened  ;  what  you  had 
been  doing,  or  were  intending  to  do  ;  for  when  you 
have  found  out  the  state  that  you  was  then  ii^  you 
have  found  out  the  real  hinderances  of  your  devo- 
tion, and  are  made  certain  what  things  you  arc  to 
avoid,  in  order  to  keep  yourself  in  a  temper  of  de- 
votion. 

If  you  was  here  again  to  make  short  remem- 
brances in  writing  of  the  chief  thins^s  w  hich,  at  such 
times,  rendered  you  indisposed  for  prayer,  and 
oblige  yourself  frequently  to  road  thorn,  and  reflect 
upon  them  5  you  would,  by  this  means,  set  a  mark 
upon  every  thin^^  that  did  you  any  hurt,  and  have  a 
constant   faithful  informat "on  of  what  ways  of  life 

25* 


^94  A    Practical  treatise 

you  are  most  to  avoid.  If,  in  examining  your  stare, 
you  should  ^nd^  that  sometimes  impertinent  visits^ 
foolish  conversation,  or  a  day  idly  spent  in  civil 
compliances  with  the  humours  and  pleasures  of  other 
people,  has  rendered  your  mind  dull  and  indispo- 
sed, and  less  aftected  with  devotion,  than  at  other 
times;  then  you  will  have  found,  that  impertinent 
visits,  and  ceremonious  compliances  in  spending  our 
time,  are  not  little  indifferent  things,  but  are  to  be 
numbered  among  those  things  which  have  a  great 
effect  upon  our  minds,  and  such  as  are  to  be  daily 
watched  and  guarded  against  by  all  those  who  are 
so  wise  as  to  desire  to  be  daily  alive  unto  God  in 
the  spirit  and  temper  of  devotion. 

I  pass  now  to  another  observation  upon  the  bene- 
fit of  frequent  prayers. 

Thirdly  ;  Frequent  and  continued  prayer  is.  the 
best  remedy  against  the  power  of  sin.  I  do  not 
mean  as  it  procures  the  divine  grace  and  assistance  ;. 
but  as  it  naturally  convinces,  instructs,  and  fortifies 
the  mind  against  all  sin.  For  every  endeavour  to 
pray,  is  an  endeavour  to  feel  the  truth  of  our  pray- 
ers ;  to  convince  our  minds  of  the  reasonableness  and 
iitness  of  those  thing's  that  are  the  subject  of  our 
prayers  ;  so  that  he  who  prays  most,  is  one  that 
most  labours  to  convince  his  heart  and  mind  of  the 
guilt,  deformity,  and  misery  of  sin.  Prayer  there- 
fore, considered  merely  as  an  exercise  of  the  heart 
upon  such  subjects,  is  the  most  certain  way  to  de- 
stroy the  power  of  sin  ;  because  so  far  as  we  pray, 
so  far  we  renew  our  convictions,  enlighten  our 
minds,  and  fortify  our  hearts  by  fresh  resolutions. 
We  are  therefore  to  consider  the  necessity  and 
benefit  of  prayer,  not  only  as  it  is  that  v/hich  God 
hears,  but  also  as  it  is  that  which,  by  its  natural 
tendency,  alters  and  corrects  our  opinions  and  judg- 
ments, and  forms  our  hearts  to  such  wa3^s  of  think" 
irig  as  are  suitable  to  the  matter  of  our  prayers. 

Now  this  rs  aiv  unanswerable  argument  for  fre- 


UJ»ON    GUniSTiAN  PEIlFEeTION.  295' 

qucncy  and  continuance  in  prayer  ;  since,  if  pray ei^ 
at  all  convinces  the  mind,  frequency  and  continu- 
ance in  prayer  must  be  the  most  certain  way  to 
establish  the  mind  in  a  steady  well-grounded  state 
of  conviction.     They  therefore,  who  are  for  short 
prayers,  because  they  suppose  that  God  does  not 
need  much  entreaty,  ought  also  to  show,  that  the 
heart  of  man  does  not   need   assistance  of  much 
prayer  ;  that  it  is  so  regular  and  uniform  in  its  ten- 
dency to  God  ;  so  full  of  ris^ht  judgments  and  good 
motions,  as  not  to  need   that   strength,  and  light, 
and  help,  which  arises  fi-om   much  praying.     For 
unless  this  be  the  state  of  our  hearts,  we  shall  want 
much  prayer  to  move  and  awake  ourselves,  though 
but  little  was  necessary  to  excite   the  goodness  of 
God.    If  therefore  men  would  consider  prayer,  not 
only  as  it  is  an  invocation  of  God,  but  ako  as  it  is  an 
exercise  of  holy  thGughts^  as  it  is  an  cmieavour  to  feel, 
and  be  affected  with  the  great  truths  of  religion, 
they  would  soon  see,  that  though  God  is  so  good  as 
not  to  need  much  calling  upon  ;  yet  that  man  is 
so  weak   as   to  need   much   assistance,   and  to  be 
under  a  constant  necessity  of  that  help,  and  light, 
and  improvement  which  arises  from  praying  much. 
It  is  perhaps  for  this  reason,  that  God  promises 
to  give  to  those  who  are  importunate^  and  ask  rvith- 
out  ceasitifr^  to  encourage  us  to  practise  that  exer- 
cise, which  is  the  most  natural  cure  of  the  disorders 
of  our  souls.     If  God  does  not  give  to  us  at  our  first 
asking  ;  if  he  only  gives  to  those  who  are  importu- 
nate ;  it  is  not  because  our  prayers  make  any  chame 
in   God,  but  because   our  importunity  has  made  u 
change  in  ourselves:  it  has  altered  our  hearts,  and 
rendered  uspro})er  objects  of  God's  gifts  and  graces. 
When  therefore    we  would   know    how  much  we 
ought  to  pray,  we  must  consider  how   much  our 
hearts  want  to  be  altered,  and  remember  that  the 
great  work  of  prayer,  is  to  work  upon  ourselves  ;  it 
is  not  to  more  an.d  affect  God,  but  it  is  to  mcvc  aad 


2^6  A  PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

effect  our  own  hearts,  and  fill  them  with  such  Icty^ 
pers  as  God  delights  to  reward. 

Prayer  is  never  so  good  a  preservation  against 
sin  ;  it  never  so  corrects  and  amends  the  heart,  as 
when  we  extend  it  to  all  the  particulars  of  our 
state,  enumerating  all  our  wants,  infirmities,  and 
disorders  ;  not  because  God  needs  to  be  informed 
of  them,  but  because,  by  this  means,  we  inform 
ourselves,  and  make  our  hearts  in  the  best  manner 
acquainted  with  our  true  condition.  When  our 
j^rayers  are  thus  particular,  descending  to  all  the 
circumstances  of  our  condition,  they  become,  by 
this  means,  a  faithful  glass  to  us,  and  so  often  as  we 
pray,  so  often  we  see  ourselves  in  a  true  light. 

This  is  the  most  likely  means  to  raise  in  us  pro- 
per affections,  to  make  us  feel  the  force  and  truth- 
of  such  things,  as  are  the  subject  of  our  devotions. 
Do  not  be  content  therefore  with  confessing  yourself 
to  be  a  sinner,  or  with  praying  against  sin  in  gene- 
ral, for  this  will  but  a  little  affect  your  mind,  it  will 
only  show  you  to  yourself  in  such  a  state  as  all 
mankind  are  in  ;  but  if  you  find  yourself  out,  if  you: 
confess  and  lay  open  the  guilt  of  yourovrn  pai-ticu- 
lar  sins,  if  you  pray  constantly  against  such  particu- 
lar sins  as  you  find  yourself  most  subject  to,  the 
frequent  sight  of  your  own  sins,  and  your  constant 
ileploring  of  their  guilt,  will  give  your  prayers  en- 
trance into  your  heart,  and  put  you  upon  measures 
how  to  amend  your  life. 

If  you  confess  yourself  only  to  be  a  sinner,  you 
only  confess  yourself  to  be  a  man  ;  but  when  you 
describe  and  confess  your  oivn  particular  guilt,  thent 
you  find  cause  for  your  own  particular  sorrow^  then 
you  give  your  prayers  all  the  power  they  can  have^ 
to  affect  and  wound  your  hearts.  Tn  like  manner, 
when  you  pray  for  God's  srrace,  do  not  be  satis ^ed 
with  a  general  petition,  but  make  your  prayers 
suitnblc  to  your  defects  ;  and  continue  to  ask  for 
such  gifts  and  graces  of  the  Holy  Spirit  as  you  xind 


t^rON    CnRlSTIAN    PERFECTION'.  2!^? 

\'t)urself  most  defective  in  ;  for  this  will  not  only 
give  life  to  your  petitions,  and  make  your  heart  ga 
along  with  them,  but  will  also  be  the  surest  means 
to  fit  and  prepare  you  for  such  graces  as  you  pray 
for. 

I.astly  ;  This  particularity  in  our  prayers  is  the: 
greatest  trial  of  the  truth  of  our  hearts. 

A  man  perhaps  thinks  he  prays  for  humility,  be- 
cause he  has  the  word  humility  in  his  prayers.  But 
if  he  was  to  branch  out  humility  into  all  iis,  particu- 
lar paris^  he  would  perhaps  lind  himself  not  dispo- 
sed to  pray  for  them.  If  he  was  to  repr'^sent  to 
himself  the  several  particulars  which  make  a  man. 
poor  in  spirit,  he  would  find  his  heart  not  desirous 
of  them.  So  that  the  only  way  to  know  the  truth 
of  our  hearts,  and  w^hether  we  really  pray  for  any 
virtue,  is  to  have  all  its  parts  in  our  prayers,  and 
make  our  petitions  to  ask  for  it  in  all  its  instances, 
if  the  proud  r:an  was  to  pray  daily  and  frequently 
for  humility  in  all  its  kinds,  and  to  be^z:  of  God  to 
remove  him  from  all  occasions  of  such  pride,  as  is 
common  to  his  particular  state.,  and  to  disappoint 
him  in  all  his  attempts  that  were  contrary  to  humi- 
lity ;  he  would  find,  that  such  prayers  would  either 
conquer  his  pride,  or  his  pride  would  put  an  end 
to  his  prayers.  For  it  would  be  impossible  to  live 
long  in  any  instances  of  pride,  if  his  daily  and  fre* 
quent  prayers  were  petitions  against  those  particu- 
lar instances.  Now  every  one  may  make  his  private 
devotions  thus  useful  to  him,  if  he  has  but  piety 
enough  to  intend  it.  For  every  one  may  know  his 
own  state  if  he  will ;  we  indeed  coiumonly  say,  that 
people  are  blind  to  themselves,  and  know  the  least 
of  their  true  state.  We  pass  this  judgment  upon 
people,  because  we  see  them  pretending  to  so  many 
virtues  which  do  not  belong  to  them,  and  declaim- 
ing against  vices  to  which  they  are  the  most  sub- 
ject. Therefore  Ave  say,  that  men  do  not  kno^^ 
(i\emselvcs  j  but  this  is  false  reasoning. 


298  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

Wc  sec  people  often  pretending  to  be  rich ;  row 
this  is  not  because  they  do  not  know  their  state, 
but  ))ecause  they  would  not  have  you  to  know  it, 
and  they  pi-esume  if  possible  to  impose  upon  you. 
Now  the  case  is  just  the  same  in  all  other  pretences. 
The  false,  the  proud,  the  worldly  man,  that  pre- 
tends to  fidelity,  humility,  and  heavenly  affection, 
knows  that  he  is  neither  faithful,  nor  humble,  nor 
heavenly-minded  ;  he  no  more  thinks  he  has  these 
A  irtues  than  a  man  thinks  he  has  a  great  estcae, 
when  he  endeavours  to  be  thought  rich  ;  he  knows 
that  he  only  affects  the  reputation  of  these  virtues, 
and  is  only  blind  in  this,  that  he  imagines  he  impo- 
ses upon  you,  and  passes  for  the  man  he  is  not. 

Every  man  therefore  has  knowledge  enough  him- 
self to  know  how  to  make  his  prayers  particularly 
fitted  to  the  corruption  and  disorders  of  his  heart, 
and  when  he  is  so  desirous  of  salvation,  as  to  enter 
into  such  a  method  of  prayer,  he  will  find  that  he  has 
taken  the  best  means  to  make  his  prayers  effectual 
remedies  against  all  his  sins.  Let  me  now  only  add 
this  one  word  more,  that  he  who  has  learned  to 
pray^  has  learned  the  greatest  secret  of  a  holy  and 
happy  life.  Which  way  soever  else  we  let  loose 
our  hearts  they  will  return  unto  us  again  empty  and 
rceary.  Time  will  convince  the  vainest  and  blindest 
minds,  that  happiness  is  no  more  to  be  found  in  the 
things  of  this  world,  than  it  is  to  be  dug  out  of  the 
earth.  But  when  the  motions  af  our  hearts  are 
motions  of  piety,  tending  to  God  in  canstant  acts 
of  devotion,  love,  and  desire,  than  we  have  found 
rest  unto  our  souls ;  then  is  it  that  we  have  con- 
Cjuercd  the  misery  of  our  nature,  and  neither  love 
nor  desire  in  vain  ;  then  is  it  that  we  have  found 
out  a  good  suited  to  our  natures,  that  is  equal  to 
all  our  wants,  that  is  a  constant  source  of  comfort 
and  refreshment,  that  will  fill  us  with  peace  and 
joyful  expectation  here,  and  eternal  happiness 
l^creafier.     For  he  that  lives  in  the  spirit  and  tern- 


UPON   CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION".  29^ 

per  of  devotion,  whose  heart  is  always  full  of  God, 
lives  at  the  top  of  human  happiness,  and  is  the  far- 
thest removed  from  all  the  vanities  and  voxaiions 
which  disturb  and  weary  the  minds  of  men  that  are 
devoted  to  the  world. 


CHAP.  Xill. 

All  Christians  are  required  to    imilafe    the    IJfe.   and 
Example  of  Jesus  Christ, 

OUn  religion  teaches  its,  that  as  we  have  borne 
the  image  of  the  earthly,  so  tve  shall  bear  the  image  of 
the  heavenly  ;  that  after  our  death  we  shall  rise  to  a 
state  of  life  and  happiness,  like  to  that  life  and  hap- 
piness which  our  blessed  Saviour  enjoys  at  the 
right  hand  of  God.  Since  therefore  it  is  the  great 
end  of  our  religion  to  make  us  fellow-heirs  with 
Christ,  and  partakers  of  the  same  happiness,  it  is  not 
to  be  wondered  at,  that  our  religion  should  require 
us  to  be  like  Christ  in  this  life,  to  imitate  his  exam- 
ple, that  we  may  enter  into  that  state  of  happiness 
which  he  enjoys  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

For  how  can  we  think  that  we  are  going  to  the 
blessed  Jesus,  that  we  are  to  be  hereafter  as  he  is, 
unless  we  conform  to  his  spirit  in  this  life,  and 
make  it  our  great  endeavour  to  be  what  he  was 
when  he  was  here.  Let  it  therefore  here  be  observ- 
ed, that  the  nature  of  our  religion  teaches  us  this  du- 
ty in  a  more  convincing  manner,  than  any  particular 
precepts  concerning  it.  For  the  most  ordinary  un- 
derstanding must  feel  the  force  and  reasonableness 
of  this  argument.  You  are  born  to  depart  out  of 
this  world,  to  ascend  to  that  state  of  bliss,  to  live 
in  such  enjoyment  of  God  to  all   eternity,  as  our 


SDO  A     PRACTICAL   TREAtlSfe 

blessed  Saviour  now  enjoys ;  you  arc  therefore  i6 
live  in  the  spirit  and  temper  that   he  lived,  and 
make  yourself  first  like  him  here,  that  yoH  may 
be  like  him  hereafter.     So  that  we  need  not  look 
for  particular  texts  of  Scripture  which  command  us 
to  imitate  the  life  of  Christ,  because  we  are  taught 
this  duty  by  a  stronger  and  more  convincing  autho- 
rity ;  because  as,  the  end  and  design  of  our  religion 
is  to  make  us  one   vv^ith  Christ  hereafter,  partakers 
of  the  same  state  of  life,  so  it  plainly  calls  us   to  be 
one  with  him  here,  and  to  be  partakers  of  the  same 
sspirit  and  temper  in  which  he  lived  on  earth.  When 
it  is  said,  that  we  are  to  imitate  the  life  of  Chf'ist,  it  is 
not  meant  that  we  are  called  to  the  same  manner  of 
life,  or  the  same  sort  of  actions,  for  this  cannot  be  ; 
but  it  is  certain  that  we  are  called  to  the  same  spirit 
and  temper,  which  w  as  tlie  spirit  and  temper  of  our 
blessed  Saviour's  life  and  actions.  We  are  to  be  like 
him  in  heart  and  mind,  to  act  by  the  same  rule,  to 
look  towards  the  same  encl^  and  to  govern  our  lives 
by  the  same  spirit.     This  is  an  imitation  of  Jesus 
Christ,  which  is  as  necessary  to  salvation  as  it  is 
necessary  to  believe  in  his  name.     This  is  the  sole 
end  of  all  the  counsels,  commands,  and  doctrines  of 
Christ,  to  make  us  like  himself,  to  fill  us  with  his 
spirit  and  temper,   and  makes  us  live  according  to 
the  rule  and  manner  of  his  life.     As  no  doctrines 
are  true,  but  such  as  are  according  to  the  doctrines 
of  Christ,  po  it  is  equally  certain,  that  no  life  is  re- 
gular or  Christian,  but  such  as  is  according  to  the 
pattern  and  example  of  the  life  of  Christ.     For  he 
lived  as  infallibly  as  he  taught  ;  and  it  is  as  irregu* 
lar  to  vary  from  his  example,  as  it  is  false  to  dis- 
sent from  "his  doctrines.     To  live  as  he  lived,  is  as 
certainly  the  one  sole  way  of  living  as  we  ought,  as 
to  believe  as  he  taught  is  the  one  sole  way  of  be- 
lieving as  we  ought.     /  am.  saith  the  blessed  Jesus, 
the  waif^  the  trufk,  and  the  life  ;  nopian  ccmieth  unt(i 
(ht  Father  but  by  me*     Christians  often  hear  thesS 


U?ON    CHRISTIAN    PERFEC!TI0?J.  SOI 

iv^ords,  and  perhaps  think  that  they  have  enough 
fulfilled  them,  by  believing  in  Jesus  Christ.     liuS 
ihcy  should  consider,  that  when  Jesus  Christ  saith 
he  is  the  Tr(7^,  his  mef»ning  is,  that  his  way  of  life 
is  to  be  the  way  in  which  all  Christians  are  to  live, 
and  that  it  is  by  living  after  the  manner  of  his  life 
that  any  man  cometh  "anto  the  Father.     So  that  the 
<loctrine  of  this  pa-ssage  is  this,  that  however  we 
may  call  ourselves  Christians  or  disciples  of  Christ, 
yet  we  cannot  come  unto  God  the  Father  but  by 
-entering  into  thai  way  of  life  which  was  the  way  of 
'•our  Saviour's  lifc^.     And  we  must   remem])cr,  that 
there   is  no   other  way  besides  this  ;  nothing  can 
•pojsibly  bring  us  to  God  but  that  way  of  life  whicli 
first  makes  us  one  with  Christ,  and  teaches  us  to 
walk  as  he  walked.     For  we  may  as  well  expect  io 
■go  to  a  heaven  where  Christ  is  not,  as  to  go  to  thai 
where  he  is,  without  the  spirit  and  temper  which 
carried  him  thither.     If  Christians. would  but  sulTcl' 
themselves   to   reflect  upon   this  duty,    their  own 
minds  would  soon  convince  them  of  the  reasonable- 
ness and  necessity  of  it.    For  who  can  find  the  least 
•shadow  of  a  reason  why  he  should  not  imitate  tbe 
life  of  Christ,  or  why  Christians  should  think   of 
<iny  other  rule  of  life ;  it  would  be  as  easy  to  show 
that  Christ  acted  amiss   as   that  we  need  not  act 
after  his  example.     And  to   think  that  these  are 
■degrees  of  holiness,which,  though  very  good  in  them- 
selves, are  yet  not  necessary  for  us  to  aspire  aftei^, 
is  the  same  absurdity  as  to  think  that  it  was  not  ne- 
cessary for  our  Saviour  to  have  been  so  perfect  him- 
self as  he  was.     For  give  but  the  reason  why  such 
■degrees  of  holiness  and  purity  became  oui^  Saviour, 
and  you  will  give  as  good  a  reason  for  us  to  aspire 
Tifter  them.     Tor  as  the  blessed  Jesus  took  not  on 
him  the  nature  of  angels,  but  the  nature  of  man,  a5 
he  was,  in  all  points,  made  like  unto  us,  sin  only 
excepted  ;  so  we  are  sure   that  there  was  no  spirit 
or  temper  that  was  excellent  ia  him,  that  rccom- 

26 


303        •-  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

mended  him  to  God,  but  would  also  be  excellent  in 
us,  and  recommend  us  to  God,  if  we  could  arrive  at  it. 
If  it  should  be  said,  that  Jesus  was  the  Saviour  of 
the  world,  that  he  was  born  to  redeem  mankind, 
was  the  Son  of  God,  and  therefore  in  a  condition  so 
different  from  ours,  that  his  life  can  be  no  rule  of 
our  life  ;  to  this  it  may  be  answered,  that  these  dif- 
ferences do  not  make  the  life  of  Christ  to  be  less 
the  rule  and  model  of  all  Christians.  For  as  I  ob- 
served before,  it  is  the  spirit  and  temper  of  Christ, 
that  all  Christians  are  to  imitate,  and  not  his  particu- 
lar actions ;  they  are  to  do  their  proper  7cork  in  that 
spirit  and  temper  in  which  Christ  did  the  work  on 
which  he  was  sent.  So  that  although  Christians 
are  not  redeemers  of  the  world,  as  he  was,  though 
they  have  not  his  extraordinary  power?,  nor  that 
great  v.'ork  to  finish  which  he  had,  yet  they  have 
their  vrork  to  do  in  the  manner  that  he  did  his  ; 
ihcy  have  their  part  to  act,  which,  though  it  be 
a  different  part,  must  not  be  performed  with  a  dif- 
ferent spirit,  but  with  such  obedience  to  God,  such 
regard  to  his  glory,  for  such  ends  of  salvation,  for 
sych  good  of  others,  and  with  all  such  holy  dispo- 
sitions, as  our  blessed  Saviour  manifested  in  every 
part  of  this  life.  A  servant  of  the  lowest  order  is  in 
a  very  different  state  from  his  master  ;  yet  we  may 
very  justly  exhort  such  a  one  to  follow  the  example 
.of  a  pious  and  charitable  master,  not  because  he 
can  perform  the  same  instances  of  piety  and  chari- 
ty, but  because  he  may  show  the  same  spirit  of 
piety  and  charity  in  the  actions  which  are  proper 
to  his  state.  This  may  show  us,  that  the  different 
state  of  our  Lord  and  master  leaves  him  still  the 
exact  rule  and  pattern  of  his  lowest  servants,  who, 
though  they  cannot  come  up  to  the  greatness  of 
his  actions,  may  yet  act  according  to  that  spirit 
from  whence  they  proceeded  ;  and  then  are  they 
true  followers  of  Christ,  when  they  are  following 
his  spirit  and  temper,  acting  according  to  his  ends 


UFON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  303 

and  designs,  and  doing  that  in  their  several  states 
which  Christ  did  in  his. 

The  blessed  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  the 
world ;  now  we  must  enter  into  this  same  design, 
and  make  salvation  the  greatest  business  of  our 
lives  ;  though  we  cannot,  like  him,  contribute  to- 
wards it,  yet  wc  must  contribute  all  that  we  can, 
and  make  the  salvation  of  ourselves  and  others  the 
«nly  great  care  of  our  lives. 

The  poor  iuuZozu'5  niiics  were  but  a  small  matieji- 
in  themselves,  yet  as  they  were  the  utmost  she 
could  do,  our  blessed  Saviour  set  them  above  the 
larger  contributions  of  the  rich.  This  may  encou- 
rage people  in  every  state  of  life  to  be  contented 
with  their  capacity  of  doing  good,  provided  that 
they  do  but  act  up  to  it.  Let  no  one  think  that  he 
is  too  low,  too  mean  and  private  to  follow  his  Lord 
and  Master  in  the  salvation  of  souls  :  let  him  but 
add  his  mite,  and  if  it  be  all  that  he  hath,  he  shall 
be  thought  to  have  done  much,  and  be  reckoned 
amongst  those  that  have  best  performed  their  Mas- 
ter's w^ill.  It  is  not  meant  by  this,  that  all  people 
are  to  be  preachers  and  teachers  of  religion,  no 
more  than  all  are  to  be  apostles^  or  all  prophets, 
or  all  7oorkers  of  miracles.  Christians  are  like  mem- 
bers of  one  and  the  sam^  body  :  they  are  differ- 
ent from  one  another  as  hands  and  eyes,  and  have 
as  different  otTices  to  perform  ;  yet  may  their 
different  parts  serve  and  promote  the  same  common 
end.  As  the  eye  cannot  say  to  the  hand,  I  have  no 
need  of  thee  ;  nor  again,  the  head  to  the  ,  p  ,  ,•• 
feet,  I  have  no  need  of  you  ;  so  neither  ^^*  ^^^'  * 
can  the  learned  teacher  say,  he  hath  no  need  of  the 
private  unlearned  person.  For  the  work  of  salva- 
tion is  carried  on  by  all  hands,  as  well  by  him 
that  is  taught,  as  by  him  that  teacheth.  For  an 
unlearned  person,  by  being  desii'ous  of  instruction, 
and  careful  to  comply  with  it,  may  by  these  veiy 
tlispositions  promote  salvation  in  as  true  a  degree 


304  A  IJRACTICAL  TREiTlSE* 

as  he  that  is   able  and  willing  to  instruct.      Thh' 
teachable  disposition  may  more  effectually  dra\v^ 
©th^rs  to  a  like  temper  of  mind,  and  another  man's 
ability  and   care  of    teaching.     And    perhaps    in 
many  instances,  the  success  of  the  teacher  is  more 
owing  to  the  manners  and  example  of  some  person 
.'that  is  taught,  than  to  the  power  and  strength  of 
the   teacher.     Therefore,    though,  as  the  apostle 
<aith,  all  have  not  the  gift  of  healings  though  all  do: 
.not  speak  icifh  tongues^  yet  all  have  some  part  that 
flicy  may  act  in  the  salvation  of  mankir/d,.  and  maT 
foliovr  their  Lord  and  Master  m  (he  great  work  for 
v/hicb  he  came  down  from  heaven.     We  nuist  not 
therefore  think,  that  it  is  Q>u\y  the  business  oidtrgij- 
nun  to  carry  on  the  work  of  salvation,  but  must 
remember  that  we  are  engaged  in  the  same  business^ 
though  not  in  the  same  manner.     Had  the   poor 
'ividozv  thought  herself  excused  from  taking  care  of 
the  treasury,  had  she  thought  that  it  belonged  only 
to  the  rich  to  contribute  to  it,  we  find  that  she  had 
been  mistaken,  and  had   lost  that  great  commen- 
dation which  our  Saviour  bestowed  upon  her.   Now 
it  may  be,  that  some  widows  may  be  so  very  poor,^ 
as  not  to  have   so   much  as  a  mite  to  give  to  the 
treasury,  who  must  therefore   content  themselves 
with  the  charity  of  their  hearts  ;  but  this  can  never 
happen  in  the  business  of  salvation  ;  here  no  one 
can  be  so  poor,  so  destitute,  so  mean  and  private, 
as  not  to  have  a  mite  to  contribute  towards  it.     For 
no  circumstances  of  life  can  hinder  us  from  being 
examples  of  piety  and  goodness,  and  making  our 
lives  a  lesson  of  instruction  to  all  that  are  about 
us.    And  he  that  lives  an  exemplary  life,  though  his 
state  be  ever  so  poor  and  mean,  is  largely  contri- 
buting to  the  salvation  of  others,  and  proving  him- 
self the  best  follower  of  his  Lord  and  Master. 

This  therefore  is  the  first  great  instance  in  which 
we  are  to  follow  the  example  and  spirit  of  our 
blessed  Saviour*    He  came  to  save,  the  werld^  tc> 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PKaFEtTlOX.  30^ 

raise  mankind  to  a  happiness  in  heaven ;  we  must 
therefore  all  consider  ourselves  as  called  to  carry  on 
this  great  ivork^  to  concur  with  our  Saviour  in  thi? 
glorious  design.  For  how  can  we  think  ourselve,-* 
to  be  his  follozcers,  if  we  do  not  follow  him  in  that 
for  which  he  alone  came  into  the  world?  How  can 
we  be  like  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  unless  the 
salvation  of  the  world  be  our  chief  and  constant 
care  ?  We  cannot  save  the  world  as  he  saved  it, 
but  yet  we  can  contribute  our  mite  towards  it. 
How  knozoest  thmi^  O  zoife,  saith  the  apostle,  zohcther 
thou  shall  save  thy  husband  ?  or  how    ,  /-.  „      ••    ^r 

7  .  n  r\^  -L    n         ,1  1   y^OV.    Ml.   lb.. 

knozvest  Ihoii^  U  man^  zvhetner  tfiou 
shall  save  thy  zv'ife  ?  This  shows  very  plainly,  that 
all  persons  may  have  a  great  share  in  the  salvation  of 
those  that  are  near  them.and  that  they  are  to  consid- 
er themselves  as  expressly  called  to  this  great  work. 
Foi'  the  apostle  uses  it  as  the  same  argument  both 
to  husband  and  wife,  which  supposes  that  it  is  a 
business  in  which  one  is  as  much  concerned  as  the 
other.  The  zroman  we  know  is  not  allowed  to 
speak  in  the  churchy  yet  is  she  here  intrusted  with 
some  share  in  the  salvation  of  the  world,  she  is  called 
to  this  great  work,  and  supposed  equally  capable 
of  saving  the  husband,  as  the  husband  of  saving  the 
wife.  5^ovv  what  is  here  said  of  husband  and  wife, 
we  must  extend  to  everij  slate  and  relation  of  this 
life  ;  brothers  and  sisters^  relations^  friends,  and 
neighbours^  must  all  consider  themselves  as  called 
to  the  edification  and  salvation  of  one  another. 
How  knowest  thou,  O  sister,  whether  thou  shalt 
save  thy  brother  ?  How  knowest  thou,  O  man,  whe- 
ther th&u  shalt  save  thy  neighbour  ?  is  a  way  of 
thinking  that  ought  never  be  out  of  our  minds.  For 
this  would  make  brothers  and  sisters  bear  with  one 
another,  if  they  considered,  that  they  are  to  do  that 
for  one  another,  which  Christ  has  done  for  all  the 
w^orld.  This  reflection  would  turn  our  anger 
towards  bad  relations,  into  care  and  tenderness  fojp- 

26* 


^SOt)'  A    PRACTIGAi    TKLAXiSS 

their  souls  ',  we  should  not  be  glad  to  get  away 
from  them,  but  give  them  more  of  our  companv- 
and  be  more  exact  in  our  behaviour  towards  them, 
always  supposing  it  possible,  that  our  good  conver- 
saflon  may  some  time  or  other  afiect  them,  and 
that  God  may  make  use  of  us  as  a  means  of  their 
salvation. 

Eulropius  is  very  good  and  pious  himself ;  but 
then  his  fault  is,  that  he  seeks  only  the  conversation 
of  pious  and  good  people  ;  he  i&  careful  and  exact 
in  his  behaviour  towards  his  virtuous  fnends  and 
acquaintance,  always  studying  to  oblige  them,  and 
never  thinking  he  has  done  enough  for  them  :  but 
gets  away  from  and  avoids  those  that  are  of  ano- 
ther  temper.  Now  Eutropms  should  recollect^, 
that  this  is  acting  like  s.  physician  that  would  take 
care  of  the  healthy^  and  disregard  (hose  that  are 
^ick.  He  should  remember,  that  his  irreligious 
JViends  and  relations  are  the  very  persons  that  arc- 
fallen  to  his  care,  to  be  edified  by  him,  and  that  he 
is  as  directly  called  to  take  care  of  their  salvation,, 
as  the  husband  to  take  care  of  the  unbelieving  wife., 
Eiitropius  therefore,  if  he  would  imitate  his  Lord 
and  Master,  must  apply  to  the  lost  sheep  of  ike  house 
of  Israel^  and  endeavour  by  all  the  innocent  arts  o£ 
pleasing  and  conversing  with  his  friends,  to  gain, 
them  to  repentance.  We  must  not  excuse  our- 
^'.elvcs  from  this  care,  by  saying  that  our  relations^ 
are  obstinate,  hardened,  and  careless  of  all  our 
behaviour  towards  them,  but  must  support  ourselves- 
with  the  apostle's  argument.  How  knowest  thou,  O' 
man,  whether  it  will  be  always  so,  or  whether  thou 
mayest  not  at  last  save  thy  relation  ? 

The  apostle  saith,  Destroy  not  kiin  7vith  thy  meat- 

for  whom  Cfirist  died.     We  may  there-  r»  •     i  k 

>       •     .1  *\.         M,  1         Kom.xiv.  15 

lore  justly  reason  thus  with  ourselves, 

that  as  it  lies  much  in  our  power  to  hinder  the 

salvation,  so  it  must  be  in  our  power  in  an  equal 

tlegrce  to    edify    and   promote   the  salvatioa  oC' 


UJ\>.^    CilRISTJAN    rERFECTIOX.  W7 

lliooc  whom  Jc^us  Christ  died  to  save.  Destroy  not 
therefore  by  thy  negligence,  by  thy  impatience,  by 
thy  want  ot  care,  that  relation  for  whom  Christ 
died,  nor  think  that  thou  hast  done  enough  to  save 
those  that  relate  to  thee,  till  ^hcrc  is  no  more  that 
thou  canst  do  for  them.  This  is  the  state  in  which 
all  Christians  are  to  consider  themselves,  as  ap- 
pointed hy  God  in  their  several  stations,  to  carry 
on  that  great  work,  for  which  Christ  came  into  the 
world.  Clergymen  are  not  the  only  men  that  have 
a  cure  of  souls,  but  every  Christian  has  some  people 
about  him,  whose  salvation  he  is  obliged  to  be  care- 
ful of,  with  whom  he  is  to  live  in  all  godliness  and 
purity,  that  they  may  have  the  benefit  of  his  exam- 
ple and  assistance  in  their  duty  to  God.  So  that 
all  Christians  though  ever  so  /ow,  and  mean^  and 
private^  must  consider  themselves  as  hired  by  Christ 
to  work  in  his  vineyard ;  for  as  no  circumr'tmces  of 
life  can  hinder  us  from  saving  ourselves,  so  neither 
can  they  hinder  us  from  promoting  the  salvation  of 
others.  Now  though  we  have,  according  to  our 
different  stations,  different  parts  to  act  ;  yet  if  we 
are  careful  of  that  part  which  is  fallen  to  our  sliare, 
we  may  make  ourselves  equally  oi)jects  of  God's 
favour. 

Thou,  it  may  be,  art  not  s.  prophet*  God  ha?  not 
honoured  thee  with  this  post  in  his  service,  yet 
needest  thou  not  fall  short  of  this  happiness  5  lor 
our  Saviour  hath  said,  That  he  that  receiveth  c  pro- 
phet in  the  name  of  a  prophet^  shall  receive  a  provheCs 
reward.  Now  this  shows  us,  that  though  all  men 
have  not  the  same  part  to  act  in  the  common  salva- 
tion, yet  that  none  will  be  losers  by  that  state  they 
are  in,  if  they  be  but  true  to  the  particular  duties 
of  it.  If  they  do  all  the  good  they  can  in  their 
particular  state^  they  will  be  looked  upon  with 
such  acceptance,  as  the  poor  uido7o  that  gave  all 
that  she  had.  Hence  Ave  may  learn  the  greatness  of 
tiieir  folly,  who  neglecting  the  exact  performanec 


SOS  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

of  such  duties  as  fall  within  their  power,  are  pleas* 
ing  themselves  vvith  the  great  things  they  would  do, 
were  they  but  in  another  state. 

Clemens  has  his  head  full  of  imaginary  piety.  He 
is  often  proposing  to  himself  what  he  would  do  if 
he  had  a  great  estate  ;  he  would  outdo  all  charita- 
ble men  that  are  gone  before  him  :  he  would  retire 
from  the  world  ;  he  would  have  no  equipage  ;  he 
>vould  allow  himself  only  necessaries,  that  widows^ 
and  orphans,  the  sick  and  distressed  might  find  re- 
lief out  of  his  estate.  He  tells  you,  that  all  other 
ways  of  spending  an  estate  is  folly  and  madness. 

Now  Clemens  has  at  present  a  moderate  estate^ 
which  he  spends  upon  himself  in  the  same  vanities 
and  indulgences,  as  other  people  do  :  he  might  live 
upon  one  third  of  his  fortune,  and  make  the  rest  the 
support  of  the  poor  ^  but  he  does  nothing  of  all  this 
that  is  in  his  power,  but  pleases  himself  Vv  ith  what 
lie  would  do,  if  his  power  was  greater.  Come  to 
thy  senses,  Clemens ;  do  not  talk  what  thou  wouldst 
do  if  thou  wast  an  angel^  but  consider  what  thoir 
canst  do  as  thou  art  a  ??2an.  Make  the  best  use  of 
thy  present  state,  do  now  as  thou  thinkest  thou 
wouldst  do  with  a  great  estate,  be  sparing,  deny  thy- 
self, abstain  from  all  vanities,  that  the  poor  may  be 
"better  maintained,  and  then  thou  art  as  charitable 
as  thou  canst  be  in  any  estate.  Remember  the 
poor  widow's  mite. 

Feroidus  is  a  regular  man,  and  exact  in  the  duties^ 
of  religion  ;  but  then  the  greatness  of  his  zeal  to  be 
doing  things  that  he  cannot,  makes  him  overlook 
those  little  ways  of  doing  good,  which  are  every  day 
in  his  power.  Fervidus  is  only  sorry  that  he  is  not 
in  holy  ol-ders,  and  that  his  hfe  is  not  spent  in  a 
business  the  most  desirable  of  all  things  in  the  world. 
He  is  often  thinking  what  reformation  he  would 
make  in  the  world,  if  he  was  a  priest  or  a  bishop  ; 
he  would  have  devoted  himself  wholly  to  God  and" 
religion,  and  have  had  no  other  care,  but  how  to 


ePOJJ"  CHKISTIAN    PERF£CTI©3j.  30^ 

save  souls.  But  do  not  believe  yourself,  Fenidns; 
for  if  you  desired  in  earnest  to  be  a  clergyman,  that 
you  might  devote  yourself  entirely  to  the  salvatior^ 
of  others,  why  then  are  you  not  doing  all  that  you 
can  in  the  state  that  you  are  now  in  ?  Would  you- 
take  extraordinary  care  of  a  parish  or  a  diocess^ 
why  then  are  you  not  as  extraordinary  in  the  care 
ef  your  family  ?  If  you  think  the  care  of  other  peo- 
ple's salvation  to  be  the  happiest  business  in  the 
world,  why  do  you  neglect  the  care  of  those  who 
ure  fallen  into  your  hands  ?  Why  do  you  show  no 
concern  for  ihe  souls  of  your  servants  ?  If  they  do 
their  business  for  which  you  hired  them,  you  never 
trouble  your  head  about  their  Christianity.  Nay, 
Fervidus^  you  are  so  far  from  labouring  to  make 
those  that  are  about  you  truly  devout  anr'  holy,  that 
you  almost  put  it  out  of  their  power  to  be  so.  You 
hire  a  coachman  to  carry  you  to  church,  and  to  sit 
in  the  street  with  your  horses,  whilst  you  arc  attend- 
ing upon  divine  service.  You  never  ask  him  how 
he  supplies  the  loss  of  divine  service,  or  what  means 
lie  takes  to  preserve  himself  in  a  state  of  piety. 
You  imagine,  that  if  you  was  a  clergyman^  you 
would  be  ready  to  lay  down  your  life  for  your 
flock  ;  yet  you  cannot  lay  aside  a  little  state  to  pro- 
mote the  salvation  of  your  servants.  It  is  not  desir- 
ed of  you,  Fervidus^  to  die  a  martyr  for  your  breth- 
ren ;  you  are  only  required  to  go  to  churcli  on  foot, 
to  spare  some  state  and  attendance^  to  bear  some- 
times with  a  little  rain  and  dirt.,  rather  than  keep 
those  souls,  w  hich  are  as  dear  to  God  and  Christ  as 
yours  is,  from  their  fnll  share  in  the  common  wor- 
ship of  Christians.  Do  but  deny  yourself  s-uch  small 
matters  as  the?e,  let  us  but  see  that  you  can  take 
the  least  trouble  to  make  all  your  servants  and  de- 
pendants true  servants  of  God,  and  then  you  shall 
be  allowed  to  imagine  what  good  you  would  have 
done,  had  you  been  devoted  to  the  altar. 

E^i^cnia  i^  a  good  young  woman,  full  of  pious 


310  A  practicaX  treatise. 

dispositions  ;  she  is  intending,  if  ever  she  has  a  fa- 
mily, to  be  the  best  mistress  of  h  that  ever  was ;  her 
house  shall  be  a  school  of  religion,  and  her  children 
and  servants  shall  be  brought  up  in  the  strictest 
practice  f^f piety  ;  she  will  spend  her  time,  and  live 
in  a  very  diflerrnt  manner  from  the  rest  of  the  world. 
It  may  be  so,  Eugenia  ,  the  piety  of  your  mind 
makes  me  think  that  you  intend  all  this  v/ith  siuce- 
riry.  But  you  are  not  yet  at  the  head  of  a  family, 
and  perhaps  never  may  be.  But,  Eugenia,  yor.  have 
now  one  maid,  and  you  do  not  know  what  religion 
she  is  of;  she  dresses  you  for  the  church,  you  ask 
her  for  what  you  want,  and  then  leave  her  to  have 
as  little  Christianity  as  she  pleases.  You  turn  her 
away,  you  hire  another,  she  comes,  and  goes  no 
more  instructed  or  edified  in  religion  by  living  with 
you,  than  if  she  had  lived  with  any  body  else.  And 
all  this  comes  to  pass,  because  your  mind  is  taken 
up  with  greater  things,  and  you  reserve  yourself  to 
make  a  whole  family  religious,  if  ever  you  come  to 
be  head  of  it-  You  need  not  stay,  Eugenia,  to  be 
so  extraordinary  a  persoB,  the  opportunity  is  now 
in  your  hands,  you  may  now  spend  your  time,  and 
live  in  as  different  a  manner  from  the  rest  of  the 
world,  as  ever  you  can  in  any  other  state.  Your 
maid  is  your  family  at  present,  she  is  under  your 
care,  be  now  that  religious  governess  that  you  in- 
tend to  be,  teach  her  the  catechism^  hear  her  read, 
exhort  her  to  pray,  take  her  with  you  to  church, 
persuade  her  to  love  the  divine  service  as  you  love 
it,  edify  her  with  your  conversation,  fill  her  with 
your  own  notions  of  piety,  and  spare  no  pains  to 
make  her  as  holy  and  devout  as  yourself.  When 
you  do  thus  much  good  in  your  present  state,  then 
are  you  that  extraordinary  person  that  you  intend 
to  be  ;  and  till  you  thus  live  up  to  your  present 
state,  there  is  but  little  hopes  that  the  altering  of 
your  state  will  alter  your  way  of  life. 

I  might  easily  produce   more  instances   of  thi^ 


t^rON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  311 

kind,  where  people  are  vainly  pleasing  themselves 
with  an  imaginari/  perfection  to  be  arrived  at  some 
time  or  other,  when  they  are  in  dilTerent  circum- 
stances, and  neglecting  that  real  good  which  is  pro- 
per to  their  state,  and  always  in  their  power.  Bur. 
these  are,  I  hope,  sufficient  to  show  my  reader  how 
to  examine  his  own  life,  and  find  out  himself,  if  I 
have  not  done  it  for  him. 

There  is  no  falseness  of  our  hearts,  that  leads  us 
into  greater  errors,  than  imagining  that  we  shall 
some  time  or  other  be  better  than  we  are,  or  need 
be  now  ;  for  perfection  has  no  dependance  upon  c.r- 
ternal  circumstances,  it  wants  no  tunes  or  oppcrfuni- 
ties  ;  but  is  then  in  its  highest  state,  when  we  are 
making  the  best  use  of  that  condition  in  which  we 
are  placed.  The  poor  rvidoio  did  not  stay  ;  ill  she 
"was  rich^  before  she  contributed  to  the  treasury  ; 
she  readily  broujirht  her  mite,  and  little  as  it  was,  it 
got  her  the  reward  and  commendation  of  great 
charit}^  We  must  therefore  all  of  us  imitate  the 
wisdom  of  the  poor  widow,  and  exercise  every 
virtue  in  the  same  manner  that  she  exercised  her 
charity.  We  must  stay  for  no  time  or  opportunities, 
wait  for  no  change  of  life,  or  fancied  abilities^  but 
remember  that  every  time  is  a  time  for  piety  and 
perfection.  Every  thing  but  piety  has  its  hir.de- 
rances  ;  but  piety,  the  more  it  is  hindered,  the 
higher  it  is  raised.  Let  us  therefore  not  vainly  say 
that  if  we  had  lived  in  our  Saviour's  days,  we  would 
have  followed  him^  or  that  if  we  could  work  mira- 
cles, we  would  devote  ourselves  to  his  glory.  Foi* 
to  follow  Christ  as  far  as  we  can  in  our  present 
state,  and  to  do  all  that  we  are  able  for  his  glory,  is 
as  acceptable  to  him,  as  if  we  were  working  mira- 
cles in  his  name. 

The  2:reatness  that  we  a-re  to  aim  at,  is  not  the 
greatness  of  our  Saviour's  particular  actions  ;  but  it. 
is  the  greatness  of  his  Spirit  and  temper,  that  wc 
arc  to  act  by  in  all  part3  of  our  Life.     Now  every 


312  A    PBACTICAL  THEAlI^K 

State  of  life,  "^.h^ihcr  public  or  private^  whether  h  unci 
or /rep,  whether  high  or  /otr,  is  capable  of  being 
conducted   and  governed  hy  the  same  .^irit  and 
temper^  and  consequently  every  state  of  life   may 
carry  us  to  the  same  degree  of  likeness  to  Christ. 
So  that  though  we  can  in  no   respect  come  up  to 
the  actions,  yet  we  must  in  every  respect  act  by  the 
spirit  and  temper  of  Christ.     Learn  of  me,  saith  our 
blessed  Lord,  ybr  /  am  vietk  and  lorclj  in  heart.    He 
doth  not  say.  Be  ye  in  the  state  and  condition  that  I 
am  in,  for  that  was  impossible  ;  y€t  though  ever  so 
different  in  state  and  condition,  he  calls  upon  us  to 
be  like  him  in  meekness  and  lowliness  of  heart  and 
spirit,  and  makes  it  necessary  for  us  to  go  through 
our  particular  state   with  that  spirit  and  temper, 
which  was  the  spirit  and  temper  of  his  whole  life. 
So   far  therefore  as  we  can  learn  the   heart  and 
spirit  of  our  Saviour;  so  far  as  we  can  discover  the 
wisdom,  purity,  and  heavenliness  of  his  designs  ;  so 
far  we  have  learned   what  spirit  and  temper  we 
ought  to  be  of,  and  must  no  more  think  ourselves  at 
liberty  to  act  by  any  other  spirit,  than  we  are  at 
liberty  to  choose  another  Saviour. 

In  all  our  actions  and  wa3''s  of  life  we  must  appeal 
to  this  rule,  we  must  reckon  ourselves  no  farther 
living  like  Christians,  than  as  we  live  like  Christ ; 
and  be  assured,  that  so  far  as  we  depart  from  the 
spirit  of  Christ,  so  far  we  depart  from  that  state  to 
which  he  has  called  us.  For  the  blessed  Jesus 
has  called  us  to  live  as  he  did,  to  walk  in  the  same 
spirit  that  he  walked,  that  we  m.ay  be  in  the  same 
happiness  with  him  when  this  life  is  at  an  end.  And 
indeed  who  can  think  that  any  thing  but  the  same 
life  can  lead  to  the  same  stale  ? 

When  our  blessed  Saviour  was  upon  the  cross,  he 
thus  prayed   for   his  enemies,  Faiher  j    ,  ... 

forgive    them^  jor  tncif  knozo   not  zvnat  «  . 

they  do.     Now  all  Christians  readily 
acknowledge,  that  this  tetuper  of  Christ  is  to  be  the 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION*  31 3 

t^xnd  rule  of  our  temper  on  the  like  occasion,  that  we 
are  not  to  fall  short  of  it,  but  must  be  perfectly  like 
Christ  in  this  charity  towards  our  murderers.    But 
ihen  perhaps  they  do  not  enough  consider,  that  for 
the  very  same  reason,  every  other  temper  of  Christ 
is  as  much  the  exact  rule  of  all  Christia««,  as  his  tem- 
per towards  his  murderers.     For  arc  we  to  be  thus 
disposed   towards   our  persecutors  and  murderers, 
because  Christ  v/as  so  disposed  towards  his  ?  And  is 
it  not  as  good  an  argument,  that  we  arc  to  be  so  and 
so   disposed   towards  the  world,  and  all  worldly 
enjoyments,  because  Christ  was  so  disposed  towarcU 
them  ?  He  was  as  right  in  one  case  as  the  other,  and 
no  more  erred  in  his  temper  towards  worldly  things., 
than   in   his   temper  towards  his  enemies.     Should 
we  not  fail  to  be  good  Christians,  if  we  fell  short 
of  that   forgiving   spirit  which   the  blessed  Jesus 
showed  upon  the  cross  ?  And  shall  we  not  etjually 
fail  to  be  good  Christians,  if  we  fall   short  of  that 
Inimble  and  meek  spirit  which  he  showed  in  all  his 
life?  Can  any  one  tell  why  the  temper  of  Christ  to- 
wards his  enemies,  should  be  more  the  exact  measure 
of  our  temper,  than  any  other  spirit  that  he  showed 
upon  any  other  occasion  ?  Think,  reader,  if  thou 
canst  find  a  reason  why  thou  mayest  not  as  well 
forgive  thy  enemies  less  than  Christ  forgave  his,  as 
to  love  the  world  more  than  he  loved  it  ?  If  ihou 
canst  tell  why  it  is  not  as  dangerous  to  be  wanting 
in  the   humility,  meekness,  and  other  tempers   of 
Christ,   as   to  be  wanting  in  his  charity  towards 
his  enemies  ?  We  must  therefore  either  own,  that  wc 
may  be  good  Christians  without  the  forgiving  spi' 
rit  which  Christ  then  exercised,  or  we  must  own, 
that  we  are  not  good  Christians  whenever  we  de- 
part from  the  spirit  of  Christ  in  any  other  instance?. 
For  the  spirit  of  Christ  consisted  as  much  in  meek- 
ness, humility,  devotion,  and  renunciation  of  the 
world,  as  in  the  forgivins:  his  enemies  :  they  there- 
fore, who  are  contrary  to  Christ  in  any  of  these  tcni- 

27 


314  A  PRACTICAL    THEATISE 

pers,  are  no  more  like  to  Christ,  than  they  who  are 
contrary  to  him  in  this  forgiving  spirit.  If  you  was 
to  see  a  Christian  dying  without  this  temper  towards 
those  thrt  destroyed  him,  you  would  be  frighted  at 
it  ;  you  would  think  that  man  in  a  dreadful  state, 
that  died  without  that  temper  in  which  Christ  died. 
But  then  remember,  that  he  judges  as  rightly,  who 
thinks  it  equally  dreadful  to  live  in  any  other  spirit, 
that  is  not  the  spirit  of  Christ.  If  thou  art  not 
living  in  that  meekness  and  lowliness  of  heart,  in*  that 
disregard  of  the  world,  that  love  of  God^  that  self- 
denial  and  devotion^  in  which  our  Saviour  lived,  thou 
art  as  unlike  to  him,  as  he  that  dies  without  that 
temper  in  zchich  he  died. 

The  short  of  the  matter  is  this,  the  spirit  and  tem- 
per of  Christ  is  the  strict  measure  of  the  spirit  and 
temper  of  all  Christians.  It  is  not  in  this  or  that 
particular  temper  of  Christ,  that  we  are  to  fol- 
low his  example  ;  but  we  are  to  aspire  after  his 
whole  spirit,  to  be  in  all  things  as  he  was,  and 
think  it  as  dangerous  to  depart  from  his  spirit  and 
temper  in  one  instance,  as  in  another.  For  besides, 
that  there  is  the  same  authority  in  all  that  our 
Saviour  did,  which  obliges  us  to  conform  to  his 
whole  example  :  can  any  one  tell  why  we  should 
have  more  value  for  xhis  world  than  our  Saviour  had? 
What  is  there  in  our  state  and  circumstances,  that  can 
make  it  proper  for  us  to  have  more  affection  for 
the  things  of  this  life,  than  our  Saviour  had  ?  Is  the 
world  any  more  our  happiness,  than  it  was  his  hap^ 
piness  ?  Are  riches,  and  honours,  and  pleasures, 
any  more  our  pro/3^?'-^ooc?,  than  they  were  his  ?  Are 
we  any  more  born  for  this  life  than  our  Saviour  was? 
Are  we  in  less  danger  of  being  corrupted  hy  its  en- 
joyments, than  he  was  ?  Are  we  more  at  leisure  to 
take  up  our  rest,  and  spend  our  time  in  worldly 
satisfactions  than  he  was  ?  Have  we  a  work  upon 
our  hands,  that  we  can  more  easily  finish,  than  he 
could  finish  his,?  That  requires  of  us  less  mortifica- 


LPOS    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  31^ 

tion  and  self-denial,  less  devotion  and  watching, 
than  our  Saviour's  required  of  him  ?  Now  as  noth- 
ing of  this  can  be  said  ;  so  nothing  can  be  said  in 
our  excuse,  if  we  follow  not  our  Saviours  temper  in 
this  respect.  As  this  world  is  as  little  our  happi- 
ness and  more  our  danger,  than  it  v/as  his  ;  as  v/e 
have  a  work  to  finish  that  recjuires  all  our  strength  ; 
that  is  as  contrary  to  the  world,  as  our  Saviour's 
was  ;  it  is  plain,  ther-  wa^  no  reason  ornccessityof 
his  disregard  of  the  world,  but  what  is  the  same 
reason  and  necessity  for  us  to  disregard  it  in  the 
same  manner. 

Again,  take  another  instance  of  our  blessed  S;v 
viouv''s  s\m'it :  I  ca>ne  doion  from  heaven  j  ,       .•    oo 
(saith  he,)  not  to  do  my  own  will^  hut  the  ' 
will  of  him  that  sent  me. 

And  again,  jMy  mtat  and  drink  is  to  do  the  zcill  of 
him  that  sent  me.  Now  can  any  Christian  show 
why  he  may  think  otherwise  of  himself,  than  our 
Saviour  here  thought  ?  Or  that  ho  need  be  less  de- 
voted to  the  glory  of  God  than  he  was  ?  What  is 
there  in  our  nature  and  condition  to  make  any  dif- 
ference of  this  kind  ?  Do  we  not  stand  in  the  same 
relation  to  God  that  our  Saviour  did  ?  Have  we  not 
the  same  nature  that  he  had  ?  Are  we  too  great 
to  be  made  happy  in  the  same  way  that  he  was  ? 
Or  can  any  thing  else  be  the  liappiness  of  our 
nature,  but  that  which  was  the  happiness  of  his  ? 
Was  he  a  sTuflerer,  a  loser  ?  Did  he  leave  the  true 
happiness  of  human  life,  by  devoting  himself  to  the 
will  of  God  ?  Or  can  this  be  our  case,  though  it 
was  not  his  ?  Can  we  be  losers  by  looking  to  Cod 
alone,  and  devoting  ourselves  to  his  glory  ?  Was  it 
not  the  greatness  and  happiness  of  our  Saviour  that 
he  lived  to  God  alone  ?  And  is  there  an^  other 
happiness  or  greatness  for  us,  but  by  making  that 
the  end  and  aim  of  our  life,  which  he  made  the  end 
and  aim  of  his  life  ?  For  we  may  as  well  seek  out 
/ar  another  God,  as  for  another  happiness,  or  ana- 


^^16  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

ther  way  to  it,  than  that  in  which  Christ  is  gone 
before  trs.  He  did  not  mistake  the  nature  of  man^ 
or  the  nature  of  the  world  ;  he  did  not  overlook  any 
real  felicity^  or  pass  by  any  solid  good  ;  he  only 
made  the  best  use  of  human  life,  and  made  it  the 
cause  of  all  the  happiness  and  glory  that  can  arise 
from  it.  To  find  a  reason,  therefore,  why  we  should 
Hve  otherwise  than  he  lived  ;  why  we  should  less 
seek  the  glory  of  God  than  he  sought  it  ;  is  to  find 
;i  reason  why  wc  shrviild  loss  promote  our  own 
i;rcatnc£S  and  glory.  For  our  state  and  condition 
in  this  life,  lays  us  tinder  all  the  obligations  that  our 
Saviour  was  under,  to  live  as  he  did  :  his  life  is  as 
much  our  right  way  as  it  was  his ;  and  his  spirit  and 
temper  is  as  necessary  for  our  condition,  as  it  was  for 
his.  For  this  world  and  all  the  things  of  the  world 
signify  as  little  to  us,  as  they  did  to  him  ;  we  are  no 
more  in  our  true  state,  till  we  are  got  out  of  this 
world  than  he  was  ;  and  we  have  no  other  way  to 
arrive  at  true  felicity  and  greatness,  but  by  so  de- 
voting ourselves  to  God,  as  our  blessed  Saviour  did. 
We  must  therefore  make  it  the  great  business  and 
aim  of  our  lives,  to  be  like  Christ  ;  and  this  not  in  a 
loose  or  general  way,  but  with  great  nicety  and  ex- 
actness, always  looking  to  his  Spirit,  to  his  ends  and 
designs,  to  his  tempers,  to  his  ways  and  conversation 
in  the  world,  as  the  exact  model  and  rule  of  our 
lives. 

Again,  Learn  of  me,  (saith  our  blessed  Saviour) 
for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  of  heart.  Now  this  passage 
is  to  be  considered,  not  as  a  piece  of  good  advice, 
that  would  be  of  use  to  us,  but  as  a  positive  com* 
mand,  requiring  a  necessary  duty.  And  if  we  are 
commanded  to  learn  of  Christ  meekness  and  low- 
Imess,  then  we  are  commanded  in  the  same  posi- 
tive manner,  to  learn  his  meekness  and  lowliness. 
For  if  we  might  take  up  with  a  meekness  and  lowli- 
ness of  heart  that  was  not  his.  then  it  would  not  be 
necessary  to  learn  them  of  him.     Since  ihercforo 


UPON"    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  317 

wc  are  commanded  to  learn  them  of  him,  it  is  plain, 
that  it  is  his  meekness  and  lowliness  that  v>'c  are 
commanded  to  learn  ;  that  is,  we  are  to  be  meek 
and  lowly,  not  in  any  loose  or  general  sense  of  the 
words,  not  according  to  the  opitiions  ^nd  pi-act ices  of 
men,  but  in  such  truth  and  reality  as  Christ  was 
meek  and  lowly. 

It  ought  also  to  be  observed,  that  there  must  be 
something  very  extraordinary  in  these  dispositions 
of  the  heart  from  the  manner  in  which  we  are 
taught  them.  It  is  only  in  this  place,  that  our 
Saviour  saj's  expressly,  Learn  of  me  :  and  when 
he  says,  Learn  of  vie.  he  docs  not  say,  for  1  am 
just  and  equitable,  or  kind,  or  holy,  but  1  am  meek 
and  lotdy  of  heart  ;  as  if  he  would  teach  us,  that 
these  are  the  tempers  which  most  of  all  distin- 
s:nishh.\?>  Spirit,  and  which  he  most  of  all  requires 
his  followers  to  learn  of  him.  For  consider^  does 
Christ,  when  he  describes  himself,  choose  to  do  it 
by  these  tempers  ?  When  he  calls  upon  us  to  learn 
of  him,  does  he  only  mention  these  tempers  ?  And 
is  not  this  a  sufficient  proof  that  these  are  tempers, 
which  the  followers  of  Christ  are  most  of  all  obliged 
to  learn  ;  and  that  we  are  then  most  unlike  to  Christ, 
when  we  are  wanting  in  them  ?  Now,  as  our  great 
Lord  and  Master  has  made  these  characters  the  dis- 
tingiiishing  characters  of  his  Spirit,  it  is  plain,  that 
they  are  to  be  the  distinguishing  characters  of  our 
spirit ;  for  we  are  only  so  far  his,  as  we  are  like 
him.  Consider  also,  Was  he  more  lozvly  than  he 
need  have  been  ?  Did  he  practise  any  degrees  of 
humility  that  were  unnecessary  7  This  can  no  more 
be  said,  than  he  can  be  charged  with  foUu.  But 
can  there  be  any  instances  of  lowliness  which  be- 
came him,  that  are  not  necessary  for  us  ?  Docs  our 
state  and  condition  excuse  us  from  any  kind  cf  hu- 
mility that  was  necessary  for  him  ?  Are  v»e  higher 
in  our  nature,  more  raised  in  our  condition,  or  more 


3-15  A  FRACTICAL    TREAT^LSE 

in  the  favour  of  God  than  he  was  ?  Arc  there  dig- 
tihies,  honours,  aad  ornaments  of  life  which  we  may 
delight  in,  though  he  might  not  ?  We  must  own 
these  absurdities,  or  else  acknowledge  that  we  are 
to  breathe  the  same  lozvly  spirii,  and  with  the  same 
meekness,  and  practise  the  same  humble  behaviour 
that  he  did.  So  that  the  matter  comes  plamly  to 
this  conclusion  *  either  that  Christ  was  more  hum- 
ble and  lowly  than  his  nature  and  condition  re- 
quired, or  we  are  under  the  same  necessity  of  as 
great  humility,  till  we  can  prove  that  we  are  in  a 
higher  state  than  he  was. 

Now,  as  it  is  plainly  the  meekness  and  lowliness 
of  Christ  that  we  are  to  practise,  why  should  we 
think  that  we  have  attained  unto  it,  unless  we  show 
forth  these  tempers  in  such  instances  as  our  Saviour 
showed  them  ?  For  can  we  suppose  that  we  are 
meek  and  lowly  as  he  was,  if  we  live  in  such  ways 
of  life,  and  seek  after  such  enjoyments  as  his  meek- 
ness and  lowliness  would  not  allow  him  to  follow  ? 
Did  he  mistake  the  proper  instances  of  lowliness  ? 
ff  not,  it  must  be  our  great  mistake  not  to  follow 
his  steps.  Did  his  lowliness  of  heart  make  him  dis- 
nogard  the  distinction  of  this  life ;  avoid  the  honours-, 
pleasures,  and  vanities  of  greatness  ?  And  can  we 
'hink  that  v\"e  are  living  by  the  same  lowly  spirit, 
whilst  we  are  seeking  after  all  the  dignities  and 
ornaments,  both  of  our  persons  and  conditions  7 
What  may  we  not  think  if  we  can  think  after  this 
manner  ?  For  let  us  speak  home  to  this  point,  either 
our  Saviour  was  7oise,  judicious,  and  governed  by  a 
dimne  spirit  in  these  tempers,  or  he  was  not :  to  say 
that  he  was  not  is  horrid  blasphemy  ;  and  to  say 
ihat  he  was,  is  saying,,  that  we  are  neither  zm*e,  nor 
judicious,  nor  governed  by  a  divine  spirit,  unless  we 
show  the  same  tempers.  Perhaps  you  will  say,  that 
Though  you  are  to  be  loxvly  in  heart  like  Christ,  yet 
fove  need  not  disregard  the  orriaments.  dignities^ 


ttrON'    CHRISTIAN   PERFECTION.  3 19 

and  honours  of  life  ;  and  that  you  can  be  as  truly 
meek  and  lowly  in  the  ^^^ure  and  show  of  life  as  ia- 
any  other  state. 

Answer  me  therefore  this  one  question,  Was  our 
Saviours  lowliness,  which  showed  itself  in  an  utter 
disregard  of  all  potnp  ^nd  figure,  of  life,  a  false  loic- 
liyiess  that  mistook  its  proper  objects^  and  showed 
itself  in  things  not  necessary  ?  Did  he  abstain  from 
dignities  and  splendor,  and  deny  himself  enjoy- 
ments which  he  might,  with  the  saine  lozvliness  of 
heart,  have  taken  pleasure  in  ?  Answer  but  this 
question  plainly,  and  then  you  will  plainly  deter- 
mine this  point.  If  you  justify  our  Saviour,  as  be- 
ing truly  and  roiscJy  humble,  you  condemn  yourself 
if  you  think  of  any  other  humility  than  such  as  he 
practised.  Consider  farther,  that  if  you  was  to  hear 
a  person  reasoning  allcr  this  manner  in  any  other 
instance  ;  if  he  should  pretend  to  be  of  an  imcard 
temper  contrary  to  the  outioard  course  of  his  life, 
you  would  think  him  very  absurd.  If  a  man  that 
lived  in  an  outward  course  of  duels  and  quarrels 
i^hould  say,  that  in  his  heart  he  forgave  all  inju- 
ries, and  allowed  of  no  resentments  ;  if  another, 
whose  common  life  was  full  o(  bitterness^  and  ivrath^ 
and  evil-speaking,  should  pretend  that  in  his  heart 
he  loved  his  neighbour  as  himself ;  we  should 
reckon  them  amou^st  those  that  were  more  than  a 
little  touched  in  their  heads.  Now  to  pretend  to 
any  temper  contrary  to  our  outivard  actions,  is  the 
same  absurdity  in  one  case  as  in  another.  And  for 
a  man  to  say,  that  he  is  lowly  in  heart  whilst  he  is 
seeking  the  ornaments,  dignities,  and  sJwzo  of  life,  is 
the  same  absurdity  as  for  a  man  to  say,  he  is  of  a 
meek  and  forgiving  spirit,  whilst  he  is  seeking  and 
revenging  quarrels*  For  to  disregard  and  avoid 
the  pomp  and  figure,  and  vain  ornaments  of  world- 
ly greatness,  is  as  essential  to  lowliness  of  piind  as 
the  avoiding  of  duels  and  quarrels  is  essential  to- 
meekness  and  charity.     As  therefore  there  is  bu? 


32Q  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

one  loay  of  being  charitable  as  our  Saviour  was,  and 
that  by  such  outward  actions  towards  our  enemies 
as  he  showed,  so  is  there  but  one  way  of  being 
lowly  in  heart  as  he  was,  and  that  by  living  in 
such  a  disregard  of  all  vain  and  worldly  distinc- 
tions, as  he  lived.  Let  us  not  therefore  deceive 
ourselves  ;  let  us  not  fancy  that  we  are  truly  hum- 
ble, though  living  in  all  the  pride  and  splendor 
of  life  ;  let  us  not  imagine  that  we  have  any  power 
to  render  ourselves  humble  and  lowly  any  other 
way  than  by  an  humble  and  lowly  course  of  life. 
Christ  is  our  pattern  and  example  ;  h^  was  content 
to  be  one  person  ;  he  did  not  pretend  to  hnpossihili- 
ties  ;  to  reconcile  i\iQ  pride  of  life  with  the  lotdiness 
of  religion  ;  but  renounced  the  one,  that  he  might 
be  a  true  example  of  the  other.  He  had  a  power 
of  working  miracles  :  but  to  reconcile  an  humble  and 
lowly  heart  v^ith  the  vain  ornaments  of  our  persons, 
the  dignities  of  state  and  equipage^  was  a  miracle  he 
did  not  pretend  to  do.  It  is  only  for  its  great  mas- 
ters in  the  science  of  virtue,  to  have  this  mighty 
power  ;  we  can  be  humble  it  seems  at  less  expense 
than  our  Saviour  was,  without  supporting  ourselves 
in  it  by  a  way  of  life  suitable  to  it  ;  we  can  have 
lozoliness  in  our  hearts,  with  paint  diwd  patches  upon 
our  faces  ;  we.  can  deck  and  adorn  our  persons  in 
the  spirit  of  humility  ;  make  all  the  show  that  we 
can  in  the  pride  Siud  fgure  of  the  world,  with  Chris- 
tian lowliness  in  some  little  corner  of  our  hearts. 

But  suppose  now  that  al!  this  was  possible,  and 
that  we  could  preserve  an  humble  and  lowly  tem- 
per in  a  way  of  life  contrary  to  it ;  is  it  any  advan- 
tage to  a  nian  to  be  one  thing  in  his  hearty  and  ano- 
ther thing  in  his  icay  of  life  ?  Ts  it  any  excuse  to 
say,  th;it  a  man  is  kind  and  tender  in  his  heart 
though  his  life  hath  a  course  of  contrary  actions  ? 
Is  it  not  a  greater  reproach  to  him,  that  he  lives  a 
churlish  life  with  tenderness  in  his  heart  ?  Is  he  not 


VPON    CHRISTIAN^  PERFECTI/ON.  321 

that  servant  that  shall  be  beaten  with  many  stripes 
for  sinning  against  his  heart  and  conscience  ?  Tsow 
it  is  the  same  thing  in  the  case  before  us.  Are  you 
humble  and  lozcli/  in  your  heart  ?  Is  it  not  there- 
fore a  greater  sin  in  you  not  to  ]:)ractise  humility 
and  Jowliness  in  your  life  ?  If  you  live  contrary  to 
conscience,  are  not  you  in  a  state  of  greater  guilt  f 
Are  hot  lowly  actions,  an  humble  course  of  life,  as 
much  (he  proper  exercise  of  humililj^as  a  chai-ita- 
ble  life  and  actions  is  the  proper  exercise  of  charity. 
If  therefore  a  man  may  be  excused  for  not  living 
a  charitable  life,  because  of  a  supposed  charity  in 
his  heart ;  then  may  you  think  it  excusable  to  for- 
bear a  lov/liness  of  life  and  actions,  because  of  a 
jrrctendcd  humility  in  3"our  mind.  Consider  far- 
ther ;  is  any  thing  so  agreeable  to  a  proud  person, 
as  to  shine  and  make  a  figure  in  the  pride  of  life  ? 
Is  such  a  person  content  with  being  high  in  heart 
and  mind  ?  Is  he  not  uneasy  till  he  can  add  a  way 
of  life  suitable  to  it  ?  Till  his  person,  his  slate, 
and  figure  in  life  appear  in  a  degree  of  pride  suit- 
able to  the  pride  of  his  heart  ?  Nay,  can  any  thing 
be  a  greater  pain  to  a  proud  man  than  to  be  forced 
to  live  in  an  humble  lowly  state  of  life  ?  Now,  if 
this  be  true  of  pride,  must  HOt  the  contrary  be  as 
true  of  humility  ?  must  not  humility,  in  an  equal 
degree,  dispose  us  to  v/ays  that  arc  contrary  to 
the  pride  of  life,  and  suilabh  and  proftr  to  hu- 
mility ?  Must  it  not  be  tlic  same  absurdity  to  sup- 
pose a  man  content  with  humility  of  heart,  without 
adding  a  life  suitable  to  it,  as  to  suppose  a  man  con- 
tent with  a  secret  pride  of  his  heart,  without  seek- 
ins;  such  a  state  of  life  as  is  accordins:  to  it  ?  Nay, 
is  it  not  the  same  absurdity  to  suppose  an  hum- 
ble man  seeking  all  the  state  of  a  life  of  pride,  as 
to  suppose  a  proud  man  desiring  only  meanness  and 
vhscurily,  and  unable  to  relish  any  ap|)earance  of 
pride  ?  These  absurdities  are  equally  minifest  and 
plain  in  one  case  as   in  the  other.     So  that  what 


322  A     PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

way  soever  we  examine  this  matter,  k  appears  that 
an  humility  of  mind,  that  is  not  an  humility  of  per- 
son, of  life,  and  action,  is  but  a  mere  pretence,  and 
as  contrary  to  common  sense  as  it  is  contrary  to 
^he  doctrine  and  example  of  our  Saviour. 

I   shall  now   leave  this  subject   to  the  reader''3 
own  meditation,  with  this  one  farther  observation. 

We  see  the  height  of  our  calling  ;  that  we  are 
called  to  follow  the  example  of  our  Lord  and  Mas- 
ter ;  and  to  go  through  this  world  with  his  spirit  and 
temper.  Now  nothing  is  so  likely  a  means  to  fill 
us  with  his  spirit  and  temper,  as  to  be  frequent  in 
reading  the  Gospels,  which  contain  the  history  of 
his  life  and  conversation  in  the  world.  We  are  apt 
to  think  that  we  have  sufficiently  read  a  book, 
when  we  have  so  read  it  as  to  know  what  it  con- 
tains :  this  reading  may  be  sufficient  as  to  many 
books ;  but  as  to  the  Gospels,  we  are  not  to  think 
thslt  we  have  ever  read  them  enough,  because  we 
have  often  read  and  heard  what  they  contain.  But 
v/e  must  read  them  as  we  do  our  prayers,  not  to 
know  what  they  contain,  but  to  fill  our  hearts  with 
the  spirit  of  them.  There  is  as  much  difference 
betwixt  reading,  and  reading,  as  there  is  betwixt 
praying  and  praying.  And  as  no  one  prsys  well  but 
he  that  is  daily  and  constant  in  prayer,  so  no  one 
can  read  the  Scriptures  to  sufficient  advantage,buthe 
that  is  daily  an'}  constant  in  the  reading  of  them* 
By  thus  conversing  with  our  blessed  Lord  ;  lookinj^ 
into  his  actions  and  manner  of  life  ;  hearing  his 
divine  sayings  ;  his  heavenly  instructions  ;  his  ac- 
counts of  the  terrors  of  the  damned  ;  his  descrip- 
tions of  the  glory  of  the  righteous,  we  should  find 
our  hearts  formed  and  disposed  to  hurifrcr  and  thirsf 
after  ric!;hteousncss.  Happy  they,  who  saw  the  Son 
of  God  upon  earth  converting  sinners,  and  calling 
fallen  spirits  to  return  to  God  !  And  next  happ^^ 
are  we  who  have  his  discourses,  doctrines,  actions, 
and  miracles,  which  then  converted  Jcics  and  Ilccp- 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  323 

thens  into  saints  and  martyrs^  still  preserved  to  fill 
us  with  the  same  heavenly  light,  and  kad  us  to  the 
same  state  of  glory  ! 


CHAP.  XIV. 

Ail  Exhortation  to  Christian  Perfection, 

'WHOEVER  hath  read  the  foregoing  chapters 
with  attention  is,  I  hope,  sufficiently  instructed  in 
the  knowledge  of  Christian  perfection.  He  hath 
seen  that  it  requircth  us  to  devote  ourselves  ii>hdly 
unto  God,  to  make  the  ends  and  designs  of  religion 
the  ends  and  designs  of  our  actions  5  that  it  called 
us  to  be  horn  again  of  God,  to  live  by  the  light  of  his 
Holy  Spirit,  to  renounce  the  world,  and  all  rvorldly 
tempers  ;  to  practise  a  constant  universal  self-denial  ; 
to  make  daily  war  with  the  corruption  and  disorder 
of  our  nature  ;  to  prepare  ourselves  for  divine  grace, 
by  a  purity  and  holiness  of  conversation  ;  to  avoid 
all  pleasures  and  cares  which  grieve  the  Holy  Spirit, 
and  separate  him  from  us;, to  live  in  a  daily  constant 
state  of  prayer  and  devotion  ;  and  as  the  crown  of 
ell,  to  imitate  the  life  and  spirit  of  the  holy  Jesus. 

It  now  only  remains,  that  I  exhort  the  reader  to 
labour  after  this  Christian  perfection.  Was  I  to 
exhort  any  one  to  the  study  o^ poetry  or  eloquence,  to 
laboii^  to  be  rich  and  great,  or  to  spend  his  time  in 
mathematies,  or  other  learning,  I  could  only  pro- 
duce such  reasons  as  are  fit  to  delude  the  vanity  of 
men,  who  are  ready  to  be  taken  with  any  appear- 
ance of  excellence.  For  if  the  same  person  was  to 
ask  me,  what  it  signifies  to  be  a  poet  or  eloquent, 
what  advantage  it  would  be  to  him  to  be  a  great. 


021  A    PRACTrCAL    TREATISE 

malhemalician^  or  a  great  statesinan,  I  must  be  for* 
ced  to  answer,  that  these  things  would  signify  just 
as  nfiuch  to  him  as  they  now  signify  to  those  poets, 
orators,  mathematicians,  and  statesmen,  whose 
bodies  have  been  a  long  while  lost  among  common 
dust.  For  if  a  man  will  be  so  thoughtful  and  in- 
quisitive as  to  put  the  question  to  every  human  en- 
joyment, and  ask  what  real  good  it  would  bring 
along  with  it,  he  would  soon  find  that  every  success 
amongst  the  things  of  this  life  leaves  us  just  in  the 
same  state  of  want  and  emptiness  in  which  it  found 
us.  If  a  man  asks  why  he  should  labour  to  be 
the  fi^rst  mathematician,  orator,  or  stateshian,  the 
answer  is  easily  given,  because  of  the  fame  and 
honour  of  such  a  distinction  ;  but  if  he  Avas  to  ask 
again  why  he  should  thirst  after  fame  and  honour, 
or  what  good  they  would  do  him,  he  must  stay 
iong  enough  for  an  answer.  For  when  we  are  at 
the  top  of  all  human  attainments,  we  are  still  at  the 
bottom  of  all  human  misery,  and  have  no  farther 
advancement  towards  true  happiness  than  those 
whom  we  see  in  the  want  of  all  these  excellences. 
Whether  a  man  die  before  he  has  written  poems^ 
compiled  histories,  or  raised  an  estate,  signifies  no 
more  than  whether  he  died  an  hundred,  or  a 
thousand  years  ago. 

On  the  contrary,  when  any  one  is  exhorted  to 
Jabour  after  Christian  perfection,  if  he  then  asks 
what  good  it  will  do  him,  the  answer  is  ready,  that 
it  would  do  him.  a  good  which  eternity  only  can 
measure  ;  that  it  will  deliver  him  from  a  ^te  of 
vanity  and  misery  ;  that  it  will  raise  him  from  the 
poor  enjoyments  of  an  animal  life  ;  that  it  will  give 
him  a  gl®rious  body,  carry  him  in  spight  of  death 
and  the  grave  to  live  wiih  God,  be  glorious  am.ong 
angels  and  heavenly  beings,  and  be  full  of  an  infi- 
nite happiness  to  all  eternity.  If  therefore  we  could 
but  make  men  so  reasonable  as  to  make  the  short- 
est enquiry  into  the  nature  of  things,  we  should 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PER]PECTI0N.  -32-5 

have  no  occasion  to  exhort  them  to  strive  after 
Christian  perfection.  Two  questions  we  see  puts 
an  end  to  all  the  vain  projects  and  designs  of  hu^ 
man  life  ;  they  are  all  so  empty  and  useless  to  our 
happiness,  that  they  cannot  stand  the  trial  of  a  se- 
cond question.  And  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  but 
asking,  whether  Christian  perfection  tends  to  make 
us  have  no  other  care.  One  single  thought  upon 
the  eternal  haj)piness  that  it  leads  to,  is  sullicicnt  to 
make  all  people  saints% 

This  shows  us  how  inexcusable  all  Christians  are 
who  are  devoted  to  the  things  of  this  life  ;  it  is  not 
because  they  wdint  Jine  parts^  or  are  unable  to  make 
deep  rejleciions  ,*  but  it  is  because  they  reject  the 
first  principles  of  common  sense  ;  they  will  not  so 
much  as^ask  what  those  things  are  which  they  are 
labouring  after.  Did  they  but  use  thus  much  rea- 
son, we  need  not  desire  them  to  be  wiser,  in  order 
to  seek  only  eternal  happiness.  As  a  shadow  at  the 
first  trial  of  the  hand  appears  to  have  no  substance  ; 
so  all  human  enjoyments  sink  away  into  nothing, 
at  the  first  approach  of  a  serious  thought.  AVc 
must  not  therefore  complain  of  the  weakness  and 
ignorance  of  our  nature,  or  the  deceitful  appear- 
ances of  worldly  enjoyments,  because  the  lowest 
-degree 'of  reason,  if  listened  to,  is  sufficient  to  dis- 
cover the  cheat.  If  j^ou  will,  you  may  blindly  do 
what  the  rest  of  the  world  are  doing,  you  may  fol- 
low the  cry,  and  run  yourself  out  of  breath  for  you 
know  not  what.  But  if  you  will  but  show  so  much 
sense  as  to  ask  why  you  should  take  such  a  chase, 
you  will  need  no  deeper  a  reflection  than  this,  to 
make  you  leave  the  broad  way,  and  let  the  wise  and 
learned,  the  rich  and  great,  be  mad  by  themselves. 
Thus  much  common  sense  will  turn  your  eyes  to- 
wards God,  will  separate  you  from  all  the  appear- 
ances of  worldly  felicity,  and  fill  you  with  one  only 
^.mbition  a^ler  eternal  happiness. 

AVhcn  Pifrrkusj  king  of  Epirius,  told  Cineas  what 

28 


326  A  PRACTICAL  TREATISE 

great  conquests  he  intended  to  n:iake,  and  how 
many  nations  he  would  subdue  ;  Cineas  asked  him 
what  he  would  do  when  all  this  was  done  :  he  an- 
swered, we  will  then  live  at  ease,  and  enjoy  our- 
selves and  our  friends.  Cineas  replied  to  this  pur- 
pose. Why  then,  sir,  do  we  not  71020  live  at  ease, 
and  enjoy  ourselves  ?  If  ease  and  quiet  be  the  ut- 
most of  our  views  and  designs,  why  do  we  run 
away  from  it  at  present  ?  What  occasion  for  all 
these  battles  and  expeditions  all  over  the  world  ? 

The  moral  of  this  story  is  very  extensive,  and 
carries  a  lesson  of  instruction  to  much  the  greatest 
part  of  the  Christian  world. 

When  a  Christian  is  eager  after  the  distinctions 
of  this  life,  proposing  some  mighty  heights  to 
which  he  will  raise  himself,  either  in  riches^  learn' 
ing,  or  power  ;  if  one  was  to  ask  him  what  he  will 
do  when  he  has  obtained  them,  I  suppose  his  an- 
swer would  be^  that  he  would  then  retire,  and  de- 
vote himself  to  holiness  and  piety.  May  we  not 
here  justly  say  with  Cineas^  if  piety  and  holiness  is 
the  chief  end  of  man,  if  these  are  your  last  proposal, 
the  upshot  of  all  your  labours,  why  do  you  not  en- 
ter upon  happiness  at  present  ?  Why  all  this  wan- 
dering out  of  your  w^ay  ?  Why  must  you  go  so  far 
about  ?  For  to  devote  yourself  to  the  w^orld,  though 
it  is  your  last  proposal  to  retire  from  it  to  holiness 
and  piety,  is  like  Pyrrhus'^s  seeking  of  battles^  when 
he  proposed  to  live  in  ease  and  pleasure  with  his 
friends.  I  believe  there  are  very  few  Christians, 
who  have  it  not  in  their  heads  at  least  to  be  some 
time  or  other  holy  and  virtuous,  and  readily  own, 
that  he  is  the  happy  man  that  dies  truly  humble, 
holy,  and  heavenly-minded.  Now  this  opinion, 
which  all  people  are  possessed  of,  makes  the  pro- 
jects and  designs  of  life  more  mad  and  frantic  than 
the  battles  of  Pyrrhus,  For  one  may  not  only  say 
to  such  people,  why  do  you  neglect  the  present 
happiness   of  these  virtues ;  but  one  must  farther 


UPON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  327 

add,  why  are  you  engaged  in  ways  of  lifo  that  arc 
quite  contrary  to  them  ?  You  want  to  be  rich  and 
grmt  ;  is  it  that  riches  and  greatness  may  make  you 
more  meek  and  humble^  and  heavenly-minded  ?  Do 
you  aspire  after  the  distinctions  of  honour,  that  you 
may  more  truly  feel  the  misery  and  meanness  of 
your  nature,  and  be  made  more  lowly  in  your  own 
eyes  ?  Do  you  plunge  yourself  into  \vorld!y  cares, 
your  passions  Ax  upon  variety  of  ol)jocts,  that  you 
may  love  God  with  all  your  heart,  and  raise -your 
atTcctions  to  things  above  ?  You  acknowledge  hu- 
mility to  be  essential  to  salvation,  you  make  it  the 
chief  care  of  your  life  to  run  away  from  it.  to  raise 
yourself  in  the  5/1010  and  figure  of  the  world  ?  Is 
not  this  fighting  Pyrrhus'^s  battles  ?  Nay,  is  it 
not  a  much  more  egregious  folly  ?  For  you  ov/n, 
that  you  cannot  be  saved  without  true  humility,  a 
real  lowliness  of  temper,  and  yet  are  doing  all  you 
can  to  keep  it  out  of  your  heart.  What  is  there  in 
the  conduct  of  the  maddest  hero  that  can  equal  this 
folly  ? 

Suppose  that  strict  sobriety  was  the  sole  end  of 
man,  the  necessary  condition  of  happiness,  what 
would  you  think  of  those  people  who,  knowing  and 
believing  this  to  be  true,  should  yet  spend  their 
time  in  getting  quantities  of  all  sorts  of  the  strong- 
est liquors  ?  What  would  you  think  if  you  saw 
them  constantly  enlarging  ihc'ir  cellars^  filling  every 
room  with  drams,  and  contending  who  should  have 
the  largest  quantities  of  the  strongest  liquors  ?  Now 
this  is  the  folly  and  madness  of  the  lives  of  Chris- 
tians ;  they  are  as  wise  and  reasonable,  as  they  arc 
who  arc  always  providing  strong  liquors  in  order 
to  be  strictly  sober.  For  all  the  enjoyments  of  hu- 
man life,  which  Christians  so  aspire  after,  whether 
of  riches^  greatness^  honours^  and  pleasures,  are  as 
much  the  dangers  and  temptations  of  a  Christian, 
as  strong  and  pleasant  liquors  are  the  dangers  aud 
temptations   of  a  man  that  is  to  drink  only  water* 


,328  A    PRACTICAL    TKEAtlS» 

Now  if  you  was  to  ask  such  a  man,  why  He  is  C9&t- 
tinually  increasing  his  stock  of  liquors,  when  he  is  t6 
abstain  from  them  all,  and  only  drink  water  ;  he  caR 
give  you  as  good  a  reason  as  those  Christians  who 
spare  no  pains  to  acquire  riches,  greatness,  and  plea- 
sures, at  the  same  time  that  their  salvation  depends 
upon  their  renouncing  them  all,  upon  their  hcavenl}^- 
mindcdncfiS,  great  humility,  and  constant  self-denial. 

But  it  may  be,  you  arc  not  devoted  to  these 
tilings  ;  you  have  a  greater  soul  than  to  he  taken 
v.-ith  riclie?.  equipage,  or  thr»  pogoanrry  of  state  ; 
you  are  deeply  engaged  in  1(  urniug  and  sciences. 

You,  it  may  be,  arc  squaring  the  circle,  or  set* 
I'ling  the  distances  of  the  stars,  or  busy  in  the  study 
of  exotic  plants. 

You,  it  may  be,  are  comparing  the  ancient  lan- 
guages, have  made  deep  discoveries  in  the  change 
of  letters,  and  perhaps  know  how  to  write  an  in- 
scription in  as  obscure  characters  as  if  you  had  liv- 
ed above  two  thousand  years  ago.  Or,  perhaps,  you 
are  meditating  upon  the  Heathen  theology,  collect- 
ing the  history  of  their  gods  and  goddesses  ;  or  you 
are  scanning  some  ancient  Greek  or  Roman  poet, 
and  making  an  exact  collection  of  their  scattered 
remains,  scraps  of  sentences,  and  broken  words. 

You  are  not  exposing  your  life  in  the  field  like  a 
mad  Alexander  or  Caesar  ,  but  you  are  again  and 
a»^ain  fighting  over  all  their  battles  in  your  stud}^ ;; 
you  are  collecting  the  names  of  their  generals,  the 
number  of  their  troops,  the  manner  of  their  arms, 
and  can  give  the  world  a  more  exact  account  of  the 
fimes,  places,  and  circumstances  of  their  batdes, 
than  has  yet  been  seen. 

You  will  perhaps  ask,  whether  this  be  not  a  very 
-commendable  enquiry  ?  An  excellent  use  of  our 
time  and  parts  ?  Whether  people  may  not  be  very 
reasonably  exhorted  to  these  kind  of  studies  ?  ft 
may  be  answered,  that  rdl  enquiries  (however 
learned  they  are  reckoned)  which  dn  not  ijupro\-*^^ 


1>P0N    CHRISTIAN    PERPECTION.  329 

ihe  mind  in  some  useful  knowledge,  thai  do  not 
make  us  wise  in  religious  loisdom^  are  to  be  reckon-, 
cd  amongst  our  greatest  vanities  and  follies.  All 
speculations  that  will  not  s!and  this  trial  are  to  be 
looked  upon  as  the  wanderings  and  impertinences 
of  a  disordered  underslanding* 

It  is  stransfe  want  of  thou2;ht  to  ima2:ine  that  an 
enquiry  is  ever  the  better,  because  it  is  taken  up  in 
Greek  and  Latin.  Why  is  it  not  as  wise  and  rea* 
sonable  for  a  scholar  to  dwell  in  the  kilchcn^  and 
converse  with  cooks^  as  to  go  irito  his  study  to  med- 
itate upon  the  Roman  art  of  cookery,  and  learn  their 
variety  of  sauces  ? 

A  gi-avc  doctor  in  divinity  would  perhaps  think 
his  time  very  ill  employed,  that  he  was  acting  be- 
low his  character  if  he  was  to  be  an  amanuensis  to 
some  modern  poet.  Why  then  does  he  think  it 
suitable  with  the  weight  of  his  calling  to  have  been  a 
drudge  to  some  antient  poet,  counting  his  syllables 
for  several  years,  only  to  help  the  world  to  read 
what  some  irreligious,  wanton,  or  epicurean  poet 
has  written  ?* 

It  is  certainly  a  much  more  reasonable  employ- 
ment to  be  making  clothes,  than  to  spend  one's 
time  in  reading  or  w^riting  upon  the  Grecian  or  Ro- 
man garments. 

If  you  can  show  me  a  learning  that  makes  man 
truly  sensible  of  his  duty,  that  fills  the  mind  with 
true  light,  that  reforms  the  heart,  that  disposes 
it  right  towards  God,  that  makes  us  more  reason- 
able in  all  our  actions,  that  inspires  us  wath  forti- 
tude, humility,  devotion,  and  contempt  of  the  world, 
that  gives  us  right  notions  of  the  greatness  of 
religion,  the  sanctity  of  morality,  the  littleness  of 
every  thing  but  Goa,  the  vanity  of  our  passicns,  and 
the  misery  and  corruption  of  our  nature  ;  I  will 
own  myself  an  advocate  for  such  learning.  But  to 
think  that  time  is  well  employed  because  it  is  spent 
in  such  speculations  as  the  vulgar  cannot  reach,  or 

28* 


330  A   PRAGTICAL    TREA.TISK 

because  they  are  fetched  from  antiquitv,  or  foitndl'b 
Greek  or  Latin,  is  a  folly  that  may  be  called  aa 
great  as  any  in  human  life. 

They  who  think  that  these  enquiries  are  consist- 
ent with  a  heart  entirely  devoted  to  God,  hare  not 
enough  considered  human  nature  ;  they  would  do 
well  to  consult  our  Saviour's  rebuke  of  Martha. 
She  did  not  seem  to  have  wandered  far  from  her 
proper  business  ;  she  was  not  busy  in  the  history  of 
housewifry,  or  enquiring  into  the  original  of  the 
distaff;  she  was  only  taken  up  with  her  present 
affairs,  and  cumbered  about  much  serving  :  but  our 
blessed  Saviour  said  unto  her,  Martha,  Martha^  thou 
art  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things.  But  one 
thing  is  needful. 

Now  if  scholars  a:nd  divines  can  show  that  they^ 
only  apply  to  such  studies  as  are  serviceable  to  the 
one  thing  needful ;  if  they  are  busy  in  a  philosophy 
and  learning  that  has  a  necessary  connexion  with 
the  devotion  of  the  heart  to  God  ;  such  learning  be- 
eomes  the  followers  of  Christ.  But  if  they  trine  in 
Greek  and  Latin,  and  only  assist  other  people. to 
follow  them  in  the  same  impertinence,  such  learn- 
ing may  be  reckoned  amongst  the  corruptions  of 
the  age.  For  all  the  arguments  against  pride,  cov- 
ttousness,  and  vanity,  are  as  good  arguments  against 
such  learning  ;  it  being  the  same  iiTeligion  to  be 
devoted  to  any  false  learning,  as  to  be  devoted  ta 
d^xvy  oihev  false  good. 

A  satisfaction  in  any  vain  ornaments  of  the  body, 
whether  of  clothes  or  paint,  is  no  greater  a  mistake 
than  a  satisfaction  in  thevainaccomplishments  of  the. 
mind. 

A  man  that  is  eager  and  laborious  in  the  search 
and  study  8f  that  which  does  him  no  good,  is  the 
■?ame  poor  little  soul  as  the  miser  that  is  happy  in 
his  bags  that  are  laid  by  iil  dust.  A  ridiculous  ap- 
plication of  our  money,  time,  and  understanding, 
ife  the  same  fault,  whether  it  be  found  amongst  tlie 


■fe^LPON    CHRISTIAN   PERFECTi«N;  SS'J. 

finery  of  fops,  the  hoards  of  misers,  or  the  trinkets 
of  virtuosos.  It  is  the  same  false  turn  of  mind,  the 
same  mistake  of  the  use  of  things,  the  same  igno-. 
ranee  of  the  state  of  man,  and  the  same  offence 
against  religion. 

When  we  see  a  man  brooding  over  bags  of 
weaUh,  and  labouring  to  die  rich,  we  do  not  only 
accuse  him  of  a  poor  littleness  of  mind,  but  we 
charge  him  with  great  guilt,  we  do  not  allow  such  a 
one  to  be  in  a  state  of  religion.  Let  us  therefore- 
suppose,  that  this  covetous  man  was,  on  a  sudden^ 
changed  into  another  temper,  that  he  was  grown 
polite  and  curious,  that  he  was  fond  and  eager  aftei* 
the  most  useless  things,  if  they  were  but  ancient 
or  scarce  ;  let  us  suppose  that  he  is  now  as  greedy 
of  original  paintings  as  he  was  before  of  money  ; 
that  he  will  give  m(^re  for  a  dog's  head,  or  a  snufi'of 
a  candle  by  a  good  hand,  than  ever  he  gave  in  cha- 
rity all  his  life  ;  is  he  a  wiser  man,  or  a  better  chris- 
tian, than  he  was  before  ?  Has  he  more  overcome 
the  world,  or  is  he  more  devoted  to  God,  than  when 
his  soul  was  locked  up  with  his  money  ?  Alas!  his 
heart  is  in  the  same  false  satisfaction,  he  is  in  the 
same  state  of  ignorance,  is  as  far  from  the  true 
good,  as  much  separated  from  God,  as  he  whose 
soul  is  cleaving  to  the  dust  ;  he  lives  in  the  same 
vanity,  and  must  die  in  the  same  misery,  as  he  that 
lives  and  dies  in  foppery  or  covetousness. 

Here  therefore  I  place  my  first  argument  for 
Christian  perfection  ;  I  exhort  thee  to  labour  after 
it,  because  there  is  no  choice  of  any  thing  else  for 
thee  to  labour  after,  there  is  nothing  else  that  the 
reason  of  man  can  exhort  thee  to.  The  whole 
world  has  nothing  to  offer  thee  in  its  stead  ;  choose 
what  other  way  thou  wilt,  thou  hnst  cho*?cn  nothing 
but  vanity  and  misery  ;  for  all  the  ditTcrent  ways  of 
the  world,  are  only  different  ways  of  deluding  thyself 
this  only  excels  that,  as  one  v^anity  can  excel  another. 
If  thou  wilt  make  thyself  more  happy  than  those 


33^2  A   PRAC<n<?AL    TREATlSfi 

whL>  pursue  tiieir  own  destruction,  if  thou  wiit 
sliow  thyself  wiser  than  fops,  more  reasonable  than 
sordid  misers,  thou  must  pursue  that  h^ippiness,  and 
study  that  wisdom  which  leads  to  God  ;  for  every 
other  pursuit,  every  other  way  of  life,  however 
polite  or  plausible  in  the  opinions  of  the  w'orld,  has 
a  folly  and  stupiilty  in  it,  that  is  equal  to  the  folly 
and  stupidity  of  fops  and  misers. 

For  a  while  sliut  thine  eyes,  and  think  of  the 
dlliest  creature  in  human  life  ;  imagine  to  thj^self 
something  that  thou  thinkest  the  most  poor  and  vain 
in  the  way  of  the  world.  Now  thou  art  thyself 
that  poor  and  vain  creature,  unless  thou  art  devoted 
to  God,  and  labouring  after  Christian  perfection  ; 
nnless  this  be  thy  diiicrence  from  the  -world,  thou 
canst  not  think  ot  any  creature  more  silly  than  thy- 
self. For  it  is  not  any  post,  or  condition,  or  figure 
in  life,  that  makes  one  man  wiser  or  better  than 
another  ;  if  thou  art  a  proud  scholar,  a  worldly 
priest,  an  indevout  philosopher,  a  crafty  politician, 
an  ambitious  statesman,  thy  imagination  cannot  in- 
vent a  way  of  life  that  has  more  of  vanity  or  folly 
than  ihine  ow^n. 

Every  one  has  wisdom  enough  to  see,  what  va- 
riety of  fools  and  madmen  there  are  in  the  world. 

Now  perhaps  we  cannot  do  better,  than  to  find 
out  the  true  reason  of  the  folly  and  madness  of  any 
sort  of  life.  Ask  thyself  therefore  wherein  con- 
sists the  folly  of  any  sort  of  life,  Avhich  is  most  con- 
demned in  thy  judgment. 

Is  a  drunken  fox-hunter  leading  a  foolish  life  f 
Wherein  consists  the  folly  of  it  ?  Is  it  because  he 
is  not  getting  money  upon  the  exchange  ?  Or  be- 
cause he  is  not  wrangling  at  the  bar  ?  Or  not 
waiting  at  co^irt  ?  No,  the  folly  of  it  consists  in 
this,  that  he  is  not  living  like  a  reasonable  Christian  ; 
that  be  is  not  acting  like  a  being,  that  is  born  aprain 
of  God,  that  has  a  salvation  to  work  out  with  fear 
and  trembling ;  that  he  i§  throwing  away  his  time 


IfPON   CHRISTIAN    I'EilFECTtOlC.  S-SS 

-a-naongst  dogs,  and  noise,  and  intemperance,  -which, 
he  should  devote  to  watching  and  prayer,  and  the 
improvement  of  his  soul  in  all  holy  tempers.  Now 
if  this  is  the  lolly  (as  it  most  certainly  is)  of  an  in- 
temperate fox-hunter,  it  shows  us  an  equal  folly  m 
every  other  Vv^ay  of  life,  where  the  same  great  ends 
©f  living  are  neglected.  Though  we  are  shining  at 
the  bar,  making  a  figure  at  court,  great  at  the  ex- 
change, or  famous  in  the  schools  of  philosophy,  we 
are  vet  the  same  despicable  creatures  as  the  intern- 
perate  fox-hunter,  if  these  states  of  life  keep  us  as 
far  from  the  improvements  of  holiness,  and  heavenly 
affections.  There  is  nothing  greater  in  any  way  of 
kfe  than  fox-hunting,  it  is  all  the  same  folly,  unless 
religion  be  the  beginning  and  ending,  the  rule  and 
measure  of  it  all.  For  it  is  as  noble  a  wisd0m,and 
shows  as  great  a  soul,  to  die  less  holy  and  heavenly 
for  the  sake  of  hunting  and  noise,  as  for  the  sake  of 
any  thing  that  the  world  can  give  us. 

If  we  will  judge  and  condemn  things  by  our 
tempers  and  fancies,  we  may  think  some  ways  of 
life  mighty  wise,  and  others  mighty  foolish  ;  >^'e 
may  think  it  glorious  to  be  pursuing  methods  of 
faaie  and  wealth,  and  foolish  to  be  killing  foxes  : 
but  if  we  will  let  reason  and  religion  show  us  the 
folly  and  wisdom  of  things,  we  shall  easily  see  that 
all  ways  of  life  are  equally  little  and  foolish,  but 
those  that  perfect  an:I  exalt  our  souls  in  holiness. 

No  one  therefore  can  complain  of  want  of  under- 
standing in  the  conduct  of  his  life,  for  a  small  share 
of  sense  is  suflicient  to  condemn  some   degrees  of 
vanity,  which  we  see  in  the  world  ;  every  one  is 
able  and  ready  to  do  it.     And  if  we  are  but  able 
to  condemn  the  vainost  sort  of  life  upon  true  reasons, 
the  same  reasons  will  serve  to  show,  that  all  sorts  of 
life  are  equally  vain,  but  the  one  life  of  religion ^ 
Thou  hast  therefore,  as  I  observed  before,  no  choice 
of  any  thino;  to  labour  after  instead  of  Christian, 
perfection  5  if  thou  canst  be  content  to  be  the  poore^^t. 


334  A    PRACTICAL    TREATISE 

vai'ncst,  miserablest  thing  upon  earth,  thou  may- 
€st  neglect  Christian  perfection.  But  if  thou  seest 
any  thing  in  human  life  that  thou  abhorrest  and 
dcspisest  ;  if  there  be  any  person  that  lives  so,  as 
thou  shouldcst  fear  to  live,  thou  must  tui-n  thy  heart 
to  God,  thou  must  labour  after  Christian  perfecuon  ; 
for  there  is  nothing  in  nature  but  this,  that  can  set 
thee  above  the  vainest^  proudest,  and  most  miserable 
of  human  creatures.  Thou  art  every  thing  that 
thou  canst  abhor  and  despise,  every  thing  that  thou 
canst  fear,  thou  art  full  of  every  folly  that  thy  mind 
can  imagine,  unless  thou  art  all  devoted  to  God. 

Secondly,  Another  argument  for  Christian  perfec- 
lion  shall  be  taken  from  the  necessity  of  it. 

I  have  all  along  shown  that  Christian  perfection 
consists  in  the  right  performance  of  our  necessary 
duties  ;  that  it  implies  such  holy  tempers,  as  con- 
stitute that  common  piety,  which  is  necessary  to 
salvation  ;  and  consequently  it  is  such  a  piety  as  is 
equally  necessary  to  be  attained  by  all  people.  But 
besides  this,  we  are  to  consider,  that  God  only 
know^s  what  abatements  of  holiness  he  will  accept  ; 
and  therefore  we  can  have  no  security  of  our  salva- 
tion, but  by  doing  our  utmost  to  deserve  it. 

There  are  different  degrees  of  holiness,  Avhich  it 
may  please  God  to  reward  ;  but  we  cannot  stale 
these  different  degrees  ourselves  ;  but  must  all 
labour  to  be  as  eminent  as  we  can,  and  then  our 
different  improvements  must  be  left  to  God.  WjC 
have  nothing  to  trust  to,  but  the  sincerity  of  ouv 
endeavours  ;  and  our  endeavours  may  well  be 
thought  to  want  sincerity,  unless  tliey  are  endea- 
vours after  the  utmost  perfection.  As  soon  as  we 
stop  at  any  degrees  of  goodness,  we  put  an  end  to 
our  goodness,  Avhich  is  only  valuable,  by  having  all 
the  'Vgrees  that  we  can  add  to  it.  Our  highest 
improvement  is  a  state  of  great  imperfection,  but 
will  be  accepted  by  God,  because  it  is  our  highest 
improvement.     But  any  other  state  of  life,  where 


T?PON    CHRISTIAN    PERFECTION.  33o 

^ve  arc  not  doing  all  that  we  can  to  purify  and  per- 
fect our  souls,  is  a  state  that  can  give  us  no  coin- 
fort  or  satisfaction  ;  because  so  far  as  we  are  a\  ant- 
ing in  any  ways  of  piety  that  are  iu  our  power  ;  so 
far  as  we  are  defective  in  any  holy  tempers,  of  v/hich 
we  are  capable ;  so  far  wc  make  our  very  salvation 
uncertain.  For  no  one  can  have  any  assurance  that 
he  })leases  God,  or  puts  himself  with  the  terms  of 
Christian  salvation,  but  he  who  serves  God  A'vith  his 
whole  heart,  and  with  the  utmost  of  his  strength. 
For  though  tlie  Christian  religion  be  a  covenant  of 
mercy,  for  the  pardon  and  salvation  of  frail  and  im- 
per/rct' creatures ;  yet  we  cannot  say  that  we  are 
within  the  conditions  of  that  mercy,  till  wc  do  all 
we  can  in  our  frail  and  imperfect  statd.  So  that 
though  we  are  not  called  to  sucb^  a  perfection,  as 
implies  a  sinless  slate^  \\iowg\\  our  imperfections  will 
not  prevent  the  divine  mercy ;  yet  it  cannot  he 
proved,  that  God  has  any  terms  of  favour  for  those, 
who  do  not  labour  to  be  as  perfect  as  they  can  be. 

Different  attainments  in  piety  will  carry  different 
persons  to  heaven  ;  yet  none  of  us  can  have  any 
satisfaction  that  we  arc  going  thither,  but  by  arriv- 
ing at  all  that  change  of  nature,  which  is  in  our 
power.  It  IS  as  necessary  therefore  to  labour  af- 
ter perfection,  as  to  labour  after  our  salvation  ;  be- 
cause we  can  have  no  satisfaction  that  a  failure  in 
one,  will  not  deprive  us  of  the  other.  When  there- 
fore you  are  exhorted  to  Christian  perfection,  you 
must  remember,  that  you  are  only  exhorted  to  se- 
cure your  salvation  ;  you  must  remember  also, 
that  you  have  no  other  rule  to  judge  of  your  per- 
fection, but  by  the  sincerity  and  fulness  of  your 
endeavours  to  arrive  at  it. 

We  may  judge  of  the  measure  and  extent  of 
Chi-istian  holiiiess^  from  the  one  instance  of  charity. 
This  virtue  is  thus  described,  Charity  scckcth  not 
her  orrrz,  hcareth  all  -things^  helieveth  all  thinnst 
bope^i  all   things^   endu'reth   all   things.      Now   this 


336  A    PRACTICAL  VrEaTISE 

charity,  though  it  be  in  perfection,  is  yet  hy  the 
apostle  made  so  absolutely  necessary  to  salvation^ 
that  a  failure  in  it  is  not  to  be  supplied  by  any  other 
the  most  shining  virtues.     Though  I  have  all  faiths 
eo  that  I  could   remove  inountains^  though  I  bestow  all 
fiiy  goods  to  feed  the  poor^  though  I  give   my  body  to 
be  burned^  and   havt  not  charity^  it  profiteth  ,me  n&- 
ihing.     The  apostle  expressly  teaches  us,  that  this 
perfection  in  Charity  is  so  necessary  to  salvation, 
that  even  martyrdom  itself  is  not  suthcient  to  atone 
for  the  want  of  it.     Need  we  now"  any  other  argu- 
ment to  convince  us,  that  to  labour  after  our  perfec- 
tion, is  only  to  labour  after  our  salvation  ?  For  what 
-is  here  said  of  charity,  must  in  all  reason  be  under*" 
stood  of  every  other  virtue,  it  must  be  practised  in 
the  same  fulness  and  sincerity  of  heart  as  this  cha- 
rity.    It  may  also  justly  be  affirmed,  that  this  cha- 
rity is  so  holy  a   temper,  and  requires   so  many 
other  virtues,  as  the   foundation  of  it,  that   it  can  , 
only  be  exercised  by  a  heart  that  is  far  advanced 
in  holiness,  that  is  entirely  devoted  to  God.     Our 
whole  nature  must  be  changed,  we  must  have  put 
oir  the  old  man,  we  must  be  born  again  of  God,  we 
must  have  overcome  the  world,  we  must  live  by  faith^ 
be  full  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  in  order  to  exercise 
this  charity. 

When  therefore  you  w^ould  know,  w^hether  it  be 
necessary  to  labour  after  Christian  perfection,  and 
live  wholly  unto  God,  read  over  St.  PauPs  descrip- 
tion of  charity.  If  you  can  think  of  any  negligence 
of  life,  any  defects  of  humility,  any  abatements  of 
.  devotion,  any  fondness  of  the  world,  any  desires  of 
riches  and  greatnes.s,  that  is  Consistent  with  the  tem- 
pers there  described,  then  you  may  be  content  with 
ihem  ;  but  if  these  tempers  of  an  exalted  cfiarity 
cannot  subsist,  but  in  a  soul  that  is  devoted  to  God, 
and  has  renounced  the  world,  that  is  humble  and 
mortified,  that  is  full  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ  and  the 
cares,  of  eternity  ;  then   you   have  a  plain  reason 


t'^ON    CHRISTIAN   PERFECTION.  33 1 

of  the  necessity  of  labouring  after  all  the  perfection 
that  you  are  capable  of ;  for  the  apostle  expressly 
saith,  that  without  these  tempers,  the  very  tongues  of 
ungels  are  but  as  sounding  brass,  or  a  tinkling  cymbal. 
Do  not  therefore  imagine,  that  it  only  belongs  to 
people  of  a  particular  pietif  and  turn  of  mind,  to  la- 
bour after  their  perfection,  and  that  you  may  go 
to  heaven  with  much  less  care  ;  tliere  is  only  one 
sti^aight  gate,  and  one  narrow  leay  thai  leadelh  unto 
life,  and  there  is  no  admission,  but  for  those  who 
strive  to  enter  into  it.  If  you  arc  not  striving,  you 
neglect  the  express  condition  which  our  Lord  re- 
quires, and  it  is  flat  nonsense  to  think  that  you 
strive,  if  you  do  not  use  all  jquy  strength.  The 
apostle  represents  a  Christian\s  striving  for  eternal 
life  in  this  manner,  Knoxo  ye  not  that  they  which  run 
in  a  race,  run  all,  but  one  receivelh  the  prize  ?  So 
run  that  ye  may  obtain*  So  that,  according  to  the 
apostle,  he  only  is  in  the  road  to  salvation,  who  is 
so  contending  for  it,  as  he  that  is  running  in  a  race. 
Farther :  you  can  have  no  satisfaction  that  you  are 
sincere  in  any  one  virtue,  unless  yoii  are  endeavour- 
ing to  be  perfect  in  all  the  instances  of  it.  If  you 
allow  yourself  in  any  defects  of  charity,  you  have 
no  reason  to  think  yourself  sincere  in  any  acts  of 
charity.  If  you  indulge  yourself  in  any  instances  of 
pride,  you  render  all  your  acts  of  humility  justly 
suspected,  because  there  can  be  no  true  reason  for 
charity,  but  what  is  as  good  a  reason  for  all  instances 
of  charity  ;  nor  an}^  religious  motive  for  humility, 
but  what  is  as  strong  a  motive  for  all  degrees  of 
humility.  So  that  he  who  allows  himself  in  any 
known  defect  of  charity,  humility,  or  any  other 
virtue,  cannot  be  supposed  to  practise  any  instances 
of  that  virtue  upoti  true  reasons  of  religion.  For  if 
it  was  a  n/ht  fear  of  God,  a  true  desire  of  being  like 
Christ,  n  hearty  love  of  my  fellow-creature?,  that 
made  me  givoa/m^jthe  same  dispositions wouldiuake 

29 


338  A     PRACTICAL   TREATISE 

me  love  and  forgive  all  m  j  enemies,  and  deny  my- 
self all  kinds  of  revenge,  and  spight  and  evil-speak- 

So  that  if  I  allow  myself  in  known  instances  of 
imcharitableness,  1  have  as  much  reason  to  suppose 
myself  void  of  true  charity,  as  if  I  allowed  myself 
in  a  refusal  of  such  alms  as  I  am  able  to  give  ; 
because  every  instance  of  uncharitableness  is  the 
same  sin  against  all  the  reasons  of  charity,  as  the 
•allowed  refusal  of  alms*  For  the  refusal  of  alms  is 
only  a  gre^t  sin,  because  it  shows  that  we  have  not 
a  right  fear  of  God,  that  we  have  not  a  hearty  desire 
of  being  like  Christ,  that  we  want  a  true  lovt  of  our 
fellow-creature.  Now,  as  every  allowed  instance  of 
i!incharitableness  shows  a  want  of  all  these  tempers  ; 
so  it  shows,  that  every  such  instance  is  the  same  sin, 
and  sets  us  as  far  from  God,  as  the  refusal  of  alms. 

To  forbear  from  spight  and  evil-speaking,  is  a 
proper  instance  of  Christian  charity  ;  but  yet  it  is 
such  a  charity  as  will  not  profit  those  who  are  not 
charitable  in  alms^  because  by  refusing  alms^  they 
.sin  against  as  many  reasons  of  charity,  as  he  that 
lives  in  spight  and  evil-speaking.  And  on  the  other 
hand,  he  that  allows  himself  in  spight  and  evil- 
speaking,  sins  against  all  the  same  reasons  of  chari^ 
ty,  as  he  that  live  in  the  refusal  of  alms.  This  is  a 
doctrine  that  cannot  be  too  much  reflected  upon,  by 
all  those  who  would  practise  a  piety  that  is  plea- 
sing to  God. 

Too  many  christians  look  at  some  instances  of 
virtue  which  they  practise,  as  a  sufficient  atonement 
for  their  known  defects  in  some  other  parts  of  the 
same  virtue.  Not  considering  that  this  is  as  absurd 
as  to  think  to  make  some  apparent  acts  of  justice, 
compound  for  other  allowed  instances  of  fraud. 

A  lady  is  perhaps  satisfied  with  her  humility,  be- 
cause she  can  look  at  some  apparent  instances  of  it ; 
she  sometimes  visits  hospital  and  alms-houses,  and 
k  very  familiar  and   condescending  to   the  poor. 


UPON    CIMllSTIAN    PERFECTION.  339 

Now  these  are  very  good  things  ;  but  then  it  may 
be,  that  these  very  things  arc  looked  upon  as  sutfi- 
cient  proofs  of  humility  ;  she  patches  and  paints, 
and  delights  in  all  the  show  and  ornaments  of  per- 
sonal pride,  and  is  very  easy  with  herself  because 
she  visits  the  hospitals.  Now  she  should  consider, 
that  she  places  her  humility  in  that  which  is  but  a 
part,  and  also  the  smallest  and  most  deceitful  part 
of  it.  For  the  hardest,  the  greatest,  and  most  essen- 
tial part  of  humility,  is  to  have  low  opinions  of  our- 
selves, to  love  our  oiuji  meanness^  and  to  renounce 
all  such  things  as  gratify  the  pride  and  vanity  of 
our  nature.  Humility  also  is  much  better  discov- 
ered by  our  behaviour  towards  our  equals  and  supe- 
riors, than  towards  those  who  are  so  much  below 
us.  It  does  no  hurt  to  a  proud  heart,  to  stoop  to 
some  low  offices  to  the  meanest  people.  Nay,  there 
is  something  in  it  that  may  gratify  pride  ;  for  per- 
haps our  own  greatness  is  never  seen  to  more  advan- 
tage, than  when  we  stoop  to  those  w^ho  are  so  far 
below  us.  The  lower  the  people  are»to  whom  we 
stoop,  the  better  they  shov/  the  height  of  our  own 
state.  So  that  there  is  nothing  difficult  in  these 
condescensions,  they  are  no  contradictions  to  pride. 

The  truest  trial  of  humility,  is  our  behaviour  to- 
wards our  equals,  and  those  that  are  our  superiors 
or  inferiors  but  in  a  small  degree.  It  is  no  sign  of 
humility,  for  a  private  gentleman  to  pay  a  profound 
reverence,  and  show  great  submission  to  a  king  ; 
nor  is  it  any  sign  of  humility,  for  the  same  person 
to  condescend  to  great  familiarity  with  a  poor 
alms-man.  For  he  may  act  upon  the  same  princi- 
ple in  b©th  cases. 

It  does  not  hurt  him  to  show  great  submission  to 
a  king,  because  he  has  no  thoughts  of  being  equal  to 
a  king ;  and  for  the  same  reason  it  does  not  hwrt 
him  to  condescend  to  poor  people,  because  he  never 
imagines  that  they  will  think  themselves  equal  tq 
bim*     So  that  it  is  the  great  inequality  of  condi- 


340  A  PRACTICAL    TREATiSB 

lion,  that  makes  it  as  easy  for  people  to  conclescenc? 
to  those  who  are  a  great  way  below  them,  as  to  be 
submissive  and  yielding  to  those  who  arc  vastly 
above  them. 

From  this  appears,  that  our  m©st  splendid  acts  of 
virtue,  which  we  think  to  be  sufficient  to  atone  for 
©ur  other  known  defects,  may  themselves  be  so  vain 
and  defective,  as  to  have  no  worth  in  them.  This 
also  shows  us  the  absolute  necessity  of  labouring 
after  all  instances  of  perfection  in  every  virtue,  be- 
cause if  we  pick  and  choose  what  parts  of  any  vir- 
tue we  will  perform,  we  sin  against  all  the  same  rea- 
sons, as  if  we  neglected  all  parts  of  it.  If  we  choose 
to  give  instead  of  forgiving,  we  choose  something 
else  instead  of  charity. 

Thirdly,  Another  motive  to  induce  you  to  aspire 
after  Christian  perfection^  may  be  taken  from  •  the 
double  advantage  of  it,  in  this  life,  and  that  which 
is  to  come. 

The  apostle  thus  exhorts  the  Corinthians^  where- 
fore rny  beloved  brethren,  be  ye  stedfast,  immoveable^ 
always  abounding  in  the  zoork  of  the  Lord  ;  forasmuch  - 
as  ye  know,  that  our  labour  zcill  not  be     ^    ^ 
■hi  vain  in  the  Lord*  This  is  an  exhor- 
tation founded  upon  solid  reason  ;  for  what  can  be  so 
wise  and  reasonable,  as  to  be  always  abounding  in 
ihat  zoork  which  will  never  be  in  vain  ?  Whilst  we  are 
pleased  with  ourselves,  or  pleased  with  the  world, 
we  are  pleased  with  vanity,  and  our  most  prosper- 
ous labours  of  this  kind  are,  as  the  Preacher  saith, 
hut  vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  vanity.     But  whilst  we 
are  labouring  after  Christian   perfection,   we  are 
labouring  for   eternity,  and  building  to  our.^olves 
higher  stations  in  the  joys  of  heaven,     .^s  one  star 
differeth  from  another  star  in  glory,  so  alsois  the  rc' 
^urrection  of  the  dead  :  we  shall  surely  rise  to  diffe- 
rent degrees  of  glory,  of  joy  and  happiness  in  God, 
according  to  our  different  advancements  in  purity^ 
holiness,  and  good  works. 


l*^Pd\'    CHRISriAN    PERFECTION.  341 

No  degrees  of  mortification  and  self-denial,  no 
private  prayers,  no  secret  mournings,  no  instances 
of  charity,  no  labour  of  love  will  ever  be  forgotten^ 
but  all  treasured  up  to  our  everlasting  comfort  an4 
refreshment.  For  though  the  rewards  of  the  other 
life  are  free  gifts  of  God  ;  yet  since  he  has  assured 
us,  that  every  man  will  be  rewarded  according  to 
his  works,  it  is  certain,  that  our  rewards  will  be  as 
dilferent  as  our  works  have  been. 

Now  stand  still  here  a  while,  and  ask  yourself, 
whether  you  really  believe  this  to  be  true,  that  the 
more  perfect  we  make  ourselves  here,  the  more 
happy  we  shall  be  hereafter.  If  you  do  not  believe 
this  to  be  strictly  true,  you  are  but  children  in  the 
knowledge  of  God  and  of  religion.  And  if  you  do 
believe  it  to  be  true,  is  it  posdble  to  be  awake,  and 
not  aspiring  after  Christian  perfection  ?  What  can 
you  think  of,  what  can  the  world  show  you,  that 
can  make  you  any  amends  for  the  loss  of  any  de- 
gree of  virtue  ?  Can  any  way  of  life  make  it  rea- 
sonable for  you,  to  die  less  pcrftct  than  you  might 
have  done  ? 

If  you  would  now  devote  yourself  to  perfection, 
perhaps  you  must  part  with  some  friends,  you  must 
displease  some  relations,  you  must  lay  aside  some 
designs,  you  must  refrain  from  some  pleasures,  you 
must  alter  your  life  ;  nay,  perhaps  you  must  do  more 
than  this,  you  must  expose  yourself  to  the  hatred  of 
your  friends,  to  the  jest  and  ridicule  of  wits,  and  to 
the  scorn  and  derision  of  worldly  men.  But  had 
you  not  better  do  and  suffer  all  this,  than  to  die  less 
perfect,  less  prepared  for  mansions  of  eternal  glory? 
But  indeed,  the  suffering  all  this,  is  suffering  no- 
thing. For  why  should  it  signify  any  thing  to  you, 
what  fools  and  madmen  think  of  you  ?  And  surely 
it  can  be  no  wrong  or  rash  jud.^ment,  to  think  those 
both  fools  and  mad,  who  condemn  what  God  ap- 
proves, and  like  that  which  God  condemns.  But  if 
you  think  this  too  much  to  be  donej  to  obtain  eternal 

29* 


34^2  A    FKACTlGAh    TREATioE 

glory,  think  on  the  other  hand,  what  can  be  gained" 
instead  of  it. 

Fancy  yourself  livhig  in  all  the  case  and  pleasure 
that  the  world  can  give  you,  esteemed  by  your 
friends,  undisturbed  by  your  enemies,  and  gratify- 
ing all  your  natural  tempers.  If  you  could  stand 
still  in  such  a  state,  you  might  say  that  you  had 
got  something  ;  but  alas  !  every  day  that  is  added  to 
such  a  life,  is  the  same  thing  as  a  day  taken  from  it. 
and  shows  you  that  so  much  happiness  is  gone  from 
you  ;  for  be  as  happy  as  you  will,  you  must  see  it 
all  sinking  away  from  you ;  you  must  feel  yourself 
decline ;  you  must  see  that  your  time  shortens  apace  : 
you  must  hear  of  sudden  deaths  ;  jou  must  fear  sick- 
ness ;  you  must  both  dread  and  desire  old  age  ;  you 
must  fall  into  the  hands  of  death  ;  you  must  either 
die  in  the  painful,  bitter  sorrows  of  a  deep  repent- 
ance, or  in  a  sad,  gloomy  despair,  wishing  for  moun^ 
,'ains  to  fall  imonyou^  and  seas  to  cover  you.  And  is 
this  a  happiness  to  be  chosen  ?  Is  this  all  that  yon 
can  gain  by  neglecting  God,  by  following  your 
own  desire,  and  not  labouring  after  Christian  per- 
lection  ?  Is  it  worth  your  while  to  separate  your- 
self from  God,  to  lose  your  share  in  the  realms  of 
light,  to  be  thus  happy,  or  I  may  better  say,  to  be 
thus  miserable,  even  in  this  life  ?  You  may  be  so 
blind  and  foolish,  as  not  to  think  of  these  things  ; 
but  it  is  impossible  to  think  of  them  without  labour- 
ing after  Christian  perfection.  It  may  be  you  are 
loo  young,  too  happy,  or  too  busy  to  be  affected 
with  these  reflections  ;  but  let  me  tell  you,  that  all 
will  be  over  before  you  arc  aware ;  your  day  will  be 
spent,  and  leave  you  to  such  a  night  as  that  which 
surprised  the  foolish  virgins.  And  at  midnight  there 
zcas  a  great  cry  made,  Behold  the  bride-  tit  ..  .  /;» 
groom  Cometh,  go  ye  out  to  meet  him* 

The  last  hour  will  soon  be  with  you,  when  you 
will  have  nothing  to  look  for,  but  your  reward  id 


another  life  ;  when  you  will  stand  with  nothing  l)ui 
rtemity  before  you,  and  must  begin  to  be  some- 
thing that  will  be  your  state  for  ever.  1  can  no  more 
reach  heaven  with  my  hands,  than  I  can  describe 
the  sentiments  that  you  will  then  have  ;  you  will 
then  feel  niotions  of  heart  that  you  never  f^lt  be- 
fore ;  all  your  thoughts,  and  reflections  will  pierce 
your  soul,  in  a  manner  that  you  never  before  expe- 
rienced ;  and  you  will  feel  the  immortality  of  your 
nature  by  the  depth  and  piercing  vigour  of  your 
thoughts.  You  will  then  know  what  it  is  to  die  ; 
you  will  then  know,  that  you  never  knew  it  before, 
that  you  never  thought  worthily  of  it  ;  but  that  dy- 
ing thoughts  are  as  new  and  amazing,  as  that  state 
which  follows  iheni. 

Let  me  therefore  exhort  you  to  come  prepared 
to  this  time  of  trial  ;  to  look  out  for  comfort,  whilst 
the  daj^  is  before  you  :  to  treasure  up  such  a  fund 
of  good  and  pious  works,  as.may  make  you  able  to 
bear  that  state,  which  cannot  be  borne  without  them. 
Could  I  any  way  make  you  apprehend,  how  dying 
men  feel  the  want  of  a  pious  life  ;  how  they  lament 
time  lost,  health  and  strength  squandered  away  in 
folly  ;  how  they  look  at  eternity,  and  what  they 
think  of  the  rewards  of  another  life,  you  would  soon 
find  yourself  one  of  those,  who  desire  to  live  in  the 
highest  state  of  piety  and  perfection,  that  by  this 
means  you  may  grow^  old  in  peace,  and  die  in  full 
hopes  of  eternal  glory. 

Consider  again,  that  besides  the  rewards  of  the 
other  life,  the  labouring  after  Christian  perfection, 
or  devoting  yourself  wholly  to  God,  has  a  great 
reward  even  in  this  life,  as  it  makes  rel'cion  doubly 
pleasant  to  you.  Whilst  you  are  diviaed  betwixt 
God  and  the  world,  you  have  neither  the  })lea" 
sures  of  religion,  nor  the  pleasures  of  the  world  ; 
tut  are  always  in  the  uneasiness  of  a  divided 
state  of  heart.  You  have  only  so  much  religion 
as  serves  to  disquiet  you  ;  to  check  your  enjoy- 


6.4^4  A   I«IIACTICAL   TREATISE 

ments  ;  to  show  you  a  hand-writ'mg  upon  the  wait ; 
to  interrupt  jour  pleasures  ;  to  reproach  you  with 
your  follies  ;  and  to  appear  as  a  deaths-head  at  all 
your  feasts  ;  but  not  religion  enough  to  give  you  a 
taste  and  feeling  of  its  proper  pleasures  and  satis- 
factions.    You   dare  not  wholly  neglect  religion  ; 
but  then  you  take  no  more  of  it,  than  is  just  suffi- 
cient to  keep  you  from  being  a  terror  to  yourself  ; 
and  you  are  as  loth  to  be  very  good^  as  you  are 
fearful  to  be  very  had.    So  that  you  are  just  as  hap- 
py as  the  slave^  that  dares  not  run  away  from  his^ 
master,  and  yet  always  serves  him  against  his  will. 
So  that  instead  of  having  a  religion  that  is  your  coin- 
fort  in  all  troubles,  your  religion  is  itself  a  trouble, 
under  which  you  want  to  be  comforted  ;  and  those 
days  and  times  hang  heaviest  upon  your   hands, 
which  leave  you  only  to  the  offices  and  duties  of 
religion.     Sunday  would  be  very  dull  and  tiresome 
but  that  it  is  but  one  day  in  seveH^  and  is  made  a  day 
of  dressmg  and  visiiin<r,  as  well  as  of  divine  service  : 
you  do  not  care  to  keep  away  from  the  public  wor- 
ship, but  are  always  glad  when  it  is  over.     This  is 
the  state  of  a  half-piety  ;  thus  they  live  who  add'reli* 
gion  to  a  worldly  life  ;  all   their   religion   is   mere 
yoke  and  burden,  and  is  only  made  tolerable  by  hav- 
ing but  little  of  their  time. 

Urbanus  goes  to  church,  but  he  hardly  knows 
whether  he  goes  out  of  a  sense  of  duty,  or  to  meet 
his  friends.  He  v/onders  at  those  people  who  are 
profane,  and  what  pleasure  they  can  find  in  irreU- 
gion  ;  but  then  he  is  in  as  great  a  wonder  at  these 
who  would  make  every  day  a  day  of  divine  wor- 
ship ;  he  feels  no  more  of  the  pleasures  of  piety, 
than  of  the  pleasures  of  profiiineness.  As  religion 
has  every  thing  from  him  but  his  heart,  so  he  has 
every  thing  from  religion  but  its  comforts,  Urbanus 
likes  religion,  because  it  seems  an  easy  way  of 
pleasing  God  ;  a  decent  thing,  that  takes  up  but  lit- 
tle of  our  time,  and  is  a  proper  mixture  in  life.     But 


rrON    CHRISTIAN  PERFECTION.  "345 

if  he  was  reduced  to  take  comfort  in  it,  he  would  be 
as  much  at  a  loss  as  those  who  have  lived  without 
God  in  the  world.  When  Urhanns  thinks  of  jo}', 
and  pleasure,  and  happiness,  he  does  not  think  at 
ad  of  religion.  He  has  gone  through  a  hundred 
misfortunes,  fallen  into  variety  ©f  hardships  ;  but 
never  thought  of  making  religion  his  comfort  in  any 
of  them  ;  he  makes  himself  quiet  and  happy  in  ano- 
ther manner,  lie  is  content  with  his  Christianityy 
not  because  he  is  pious,  but  because  he  is  not  pro- 
fane. He  continues  in  the  same  course  of  religion, 
not  because  of  any  real  good  he  ever  found  in  it, 
but  because  it  does  him  no  hurt. 

To  such  poor  purposes  as  these  do  numbers 
of  people  profess  Christianity.  Let  me,  there- 
fore, exhort  you  to  a  solid  pkty,  to  devote  your- 
self wholly  unto  God,  that  entering  deep  into 
religion  you  may  enter  deep  into  its  comforts, 
that  serving  God  v.^ith  all  your  heart,  you  may 
have  the  peace  and  pleasure  of  a  heart  that  is 
at  uniiy  Avith  itself.  When  your  conscience  once 
bears  you  witness,  that,  you  ?iVQ  sitdfast,  ir)imoveable^ 
and  ahi'm/s  abounding  in  the  work  of  the  Lord^  you 
will  find  that  your  reward  is  already  begun,  and  that 
you  could  not  be  less  devout,  less  holy,  less  chari- 
tabde,  or  less  humble,  without  lessening;  the  most 
substantial  pleasure  that  ever  you  felt  in  your  life. 
So  that  to  be  content  with  any  lower  attainments  in 
piety,  is  to  rob  ourselves  of  a  present  happiness, 
which  nothing  else  '^an  ^,ve  us. 

You  would,  perhaos,  devote  yourself  to  perfec- 
tion, but  for  this  or  that  little  dilficulty  that  lies  in 
your  way  ;  you  are  not  in  so  convenient  a  state  for 
the  full  practice  of  piety  as  you  could  wish.  But 
consider  that  this  is  nonsense,  because  ]")ei'fection 
consists  in  conquering  difficulties.  You  could  not 
be  perfect,  as  the  present  state  of  trial  requires,  had 
you  not  those  difficulties  and  i'nconveniences  to 
struggle  with,     lliese  things  therefore,  which  yo\i 


346  A  PRACTICAL   TREATISE 

would  have  removed,  are  laid  in  your  way,  that  you 
may  make  them  so  many  steps  to  perfection  and 
gloi-y. 

As  you  could  not  exercise  your  charity,  unless 
you  met  with  objects,  so  neither  could  you  show 
that  you  had  overcome  the  world,  unless  you  had 
many  worldly  engagements  to  overcome.  If  all 
your  friends  and  acquainlance.  were  devout,  humble, 
heavenly-minded,  and  wholly  intent  upon  the  one 
end  of  life,  it  would  be  less  perfection  in  you  to  be 
like  them.  But  if  you  are  humble  amongst  those 
that  delight  in  pride  ;  tieavenly-mindtd  amongst  the 
worldly  5  sober  amongst  the  intemperate  ;  devout 
amongst  the  irreligious  ;  and  labouring  after  per- 
fecdon  amongst  those  that  despise  and  ridicule  your 
labours ;  then  are  you  truly  devoted  unto  God.  Con- 
sider therefore  that  you  ean  have  no  difficulty  but 
such  as  the  world  lays  in  your  v/ay,  and  that  per- 
fection is  never  to  be  had,  but  by  parting  with  the 
world.  It  consists  in  nothing  else.  To  stay  there- 
fore to  be  perfect,  till  it  suits  with  your  condition  in 
the  world,  is  like  staying  to.be  charitable  till  there 
were  no  objects  of  charity.  It  is  as  if  a  man  should 
intend  to  be  courageous  some  time  or  other,  when 
there  is  nothing  left  to  try  his  courage. 

Again ;  You  perhaps  turn  your  eyes  upon  the 
world  ;  you  see  all  orders  of  people  full  of  other 
cares  and  pleasures ;  you  see  the  generality  of  cler- 
gy and  laity,  learned  and  unlearned,  your  friends 
and  acquedntance,  mostly  living  according  to  the 
spirit  that  reigneth  in  the  world  ;  you  are,  perhaps, 
content  with  such  a  piety^  as  you  think  contents 
great  scholars  and  famous  men  ;  and,  it  may  be, 
you  cannot  think  that  God  will  reject  such  numbers 
of  Christians.  Now  ail  this  is  amusing  yourself 
with  nothing  ;  it  is  only  losing  yourself  in  vain  ima* 
ginations  :  it  is  making  that  a  rule  which  is  no  rule, 
and  cheating  yourself  into  a  false  satisfaction.  As 
y©u  ai'c  aot  censoriously  te  daimi  other  people  j  s^ 


Uf»ON    GHRISTIAN'    PERFECTIOxV.  54? 

neither  arc  yow  to  think  your  own  salvation  secure 
because  you  are  like  the  generality  of  the  world. 

The  foolish  virgins  that  had  provided  no  oil  for 
their  lamps,  and  so  were  shut  out  of  the  marriage- 
feast,  were  only  thus  far  foolish,  that  they  trusted  to 
the  assistance  of  those  that  were  icise.  But  you  are 
more  foolish  than  they  ;  for  you, trust  to  be  saved 
by  (he  folly  of  others  5  you  imagine  yourself  safe  in 
the  negligence^  vanity  and  irregularity  of  the  world. 
Yo«  take  confidence  in  the  broad  umy^  because  it  is 
hroad  ;  jow  are  content  with  yourself,  because  you 
seem  to  be  along  with  the  many,  though  God  him- 
self has  told  you,  that  narrow  is  the  way  that  lead- 
(tth  unto  life,  and/cro  there  be  that  find  it. 

Lasti}^ ;  One  word  more  and  I  have  done :  think 

'with  yourself  what  a  happiness  it  is  that  you  have 

it  in  your  power  to  secure  a  share  in  the  glories  of 

heaven,  and  make  yourself  one  of  those  blessed 

beings  that  are  to  live  with  God  for  «ver.     Reflect 

upon  the  glories  of  l^right  angels,  that  shine  about 

the  throne  of  heaven  ;  think  upon  that  fullness  ©f 

jo}^  which  is  the  state  of  Christ  at  the  right  hand 

of  God  ;  and  remember,  that  it  is  this  same  state 

of  gloiy  and  joy  that  lies  open  for  you.     You  are 

less,  it  may  be,  in  worldly  distinctions  thaw  many 

others;  but  as  to  your  relation  to  God,  you  have  no 

superior  upon  earth.     Let  your  condition  be  what 

it  will,  let  your  life  be  ever  so  mean,  you  may  make 

the  end  of  it  t-he  beginning  of  eternal  glory.     Be 

often  therefore  in  these  reflections,  that  they  may 

fill  you  with  a  wise  ambition    of  all   that   glory, 

which  God  in  Christ  hath  called  you  to.     For  it 

is  impossible  to  understand  and  feel  any  thing  of 

this,  without  feeling  your  heart  affected  with  strong 

desires    after    it.     The    hopes    and    expectations 

of  so  much   greatness  and   glory  must    needs  a- 

wake  you   into   earnest  desires  and  longings  after 

it.     There  Are  mmv  things  in  human  life  which  it 

would  be  in  vain  for  you  to  aspire  after ;  but  the 


348  A     PRACTICAL    TREATKE,   ^C. 

happiness  of  the  next,  which  is  the  sum  of  all  hap- 
piness, is  secure  and  safe  to  you  against  all  acci- 
dents. Here  no  chances  or  misfortunes  can  prevent 
your  success  ;  neither  the  treachery  of  friends,  nor 
the  malice  of  enemies,  can  disappoint  you  ?  it  is 
only  your  own  false  heart  that  can  rob  you  of  this 
happiness.  Be  but  your  own  true  friend,  and  then 
you  have  nothing  to  fear  from  your  enemies.  Do 
but  you  sincerely  labour  in  the  Lord,  and  then  nei- 
ther height  nor  depth,  neither  life  nor  death,  nei- 
ther men  nor  devils,  can  m.ake  vour  labour  in  vaim 


J 


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Date  Due 


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1    1012  01029  0346 


